


Tomione/Volmione one shots and word prompts

by Sharkdiver1980



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, One Shot, One Word Prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2018-08-19 15:02:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8213431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharkdiver1980/pseuds/Sharkdiver1980
Summary: Looking for something short and sweet? This is my collection of Tomione one-shots and word prompt challenge fics mostly from the Gutter City Tomione forum. All stories will either be Tomione or Volmione. Enjoy!1 - Broken Umbrella (word Prompt-Humor)2 - "This was her internship?!" (phrase prompt-Humor)3 - Psycho - for Halloween challenge (romance/horror)4 - Wrong Number (PWP/humor random one shot)5 - Merry Christmas, My Lord - Christmas 2016 challenge (Humor/romance)6 - Cause and Effect - Valentine's Day smut 2017 (Humor/PWP)7 - The Secret Admirer - Valentine's Smut Fest 2018 (Humor/PWP)





	1. Broken Umbrella

**Prompt: Broken Umbrella**

 

* * *

 

 

“NO! no, no, no…it was in here…I _know_ it was in here…” Hermione said as she began removing everything from her beaded bag as she sat on the floor of the room of requirement.

“What are you looking for?” Harry asked furrowing his brows in confusion as he watched her.

“My umbrella. I am absolutely certain it was in here, and now it’s missing.” Hermione said with a hint of panic creeping into her voice.

Harry was still beyond confused.

“Hermione, it’s not even raining outside…and besides, what do you even need it for? Can’t you just use a water repelling charm like the rest of us do?” Harry asked perplexed.

Hermione glared at Harry, “I’m not _thick_ , Harry, I know how to use a water repelling charm.” She spat sarcastically, once again pawing through everything she had pulled from the beaded bag.

“Then why do you care about some stupid umbrella that was broken, anyway?” he asked exasperated.

“Because that was our only ticket home! Don’t you pay any attention at all?” Hermione shrieked, as anger began to rise up within her, “He took it. I know he did…that no good, vile, soulless…” she ranted before Harry interrupted her barrage of insults.

“Hang on, what do you mean our _only ticket home_ …what about the time turner?” Harry asked trying to understand the gravity of their situation.

“Harry, the broken umbrella _was_ the time turner! I transfigured it, thinking it would draw less attention, but he _still_ managed to get his grubby fingers on it!” Hermione finally explained.

“So what you’re saying is…we’re stuck here.” Harry said slowly, staring in disbelief at Hermione.

“What part of _no time turner_ do you not understand?” she said pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Well, who took it then?” Harry asked

“Who do you think?! Riddle, of course, that slimy, under-handed, despicable…” she said as she launched into a new string of insults.

“How did Riddle manage to get it out of your beaded bag, then?” Harry asked innocently, trying to fully understand what had happened.

Hermione met his eyes briefly, and looked way, flushing with embarrassment, and bit her lip nervously.

“Hermione…how did Riddle get ahold of your beaded bag?” Harry asked again slowly, knowing there was something important she wasn’t telling him. Did she look _guilty_?

“Well, I…that is to say…” she said twisting her hands nervously in her lap.

“Spit it out, Hermione!” Harry said in annoyance.

“I may have been snogging him in the Potion’s supply cupboard.” She mumbled, looking down guiltily at her feet.

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch that…” Harry said straining to hear her.

“I said I was snogging him, Harry! Quite thoroughly, I might add.” She said as she stood up and began to pace the room, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. There, it was out in the open now.

“Wait, you were _snogging_ him? Riddle? _Lord Voldemort_? How?”

Hermione glared at Harry, “How do you think? Do you want me to draw you a diagram then? Merlin, Harry.” Hermione said rubbing her temples in frustration.

Harry snorted, “I meant, how did you end up snogging _him_ , of all people, Hermione? And don’t say it just happened, because something like that surely doesn’t _just happen_. Did he curse you? The Imperius, maybe?” Harry clarified, hoping there would be a reasonable explanation to all of this.

“You know, I’d rather not talk about this.” Hermione said suddenly, trying to effectively end the discussion.

“Oh, I don’t think so, Hermione, one doesn’t just go around snogging the future _Dark Lord_ without an explanation.” Harry spat acidly.

Hermione sighed. There was no way around it, she was going to have to tell Harry the truth.

“Do you remember that detention I had with Slughorn last week, you know, the one I received for taking the blame for _your_ botched potion?” She said still standing with her arms crossed, and raising her eyebrow at him.

“I already apologized for that Hermione…” Harry said before she cut him off and kept talking

“Well, Riddle was also there in the potion’s classroom that night, supposedly doing some extra credit for Slughorn by organizing his Potion’s ingredients, not that he needed it…I mean, have you _seen_ his grades?” She spat, rolling her eyes.

“Get to the point, Hermione…” Harry said as she huffed at him.

“Well, Slughorn asked me to assist him for the duration of my detention, and then proceeded to leave me alone with that pompous, smug, repulsive…”

  
“Hermione…” Harry interrupted yet another barrage of insults directed at Tom Riddle.

“So I go in the cupboard with him, and boom…the door slams and locks us in together. He claimed that he had nothing to do with it, the bloody liar…”

“Why didn’t you call for help?” Harry asked, and Hermione just looked at him as if he sprouted a second head.

“Gee, why didn’t _I_ think of that?” she spat sarcastically, and Harry just glared in return.

“Of course, I tried everything I could think of; an unlocking charm, _Diffindo_ , sending a patronus…I even screamed like a banshee hoping that Slughorn would hear me from his office, fat lot of good that did.” Hermione explained.

“And what was Riddle doing during all of this?” Harry asked

“He was ramming his shoulder into the door, making a good show of _pretending_ that he had nothing whatsoever to do with the two of us being locked in the potion’s cupboard together.” Hermione said rolling her eyes.

“So then what happened?” Harry asked.

“Well, we were stuck in there for quite some time, several hours in fact. I thought for sure, Professor Slughorn would come by to check on us, but he never did. After a while, it got quite hot in there, being such a small confined space. I was sweating, and I could feel my robes sticking to my back, and I noticed Riddle must’ve been warm too, since I could see sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. So I took my outer robes off, and unbuttoned a few of the buttons on my blouse, and set down my beaded bag on top of my robes. It really was very hot.” Hermione said, her cheeks beginning to turn pink.

“Okay, so you were locked in a closet with Riddle, and you took off your outer robes and put your bag down because you were hot. How do you go from that to having your _tongue_ down Riddle’s throat?” Harry asked incredulously.

Hermione just gaped at Harry, “Well, it’s not as if I did it on purpose, you prat!” Hermione huffed at him and sighed in annoyance.

“Well, how did it happen then?” Harry asked raking his hand through his hair in frustration.

“Riddle tried to stay as far away from me as possible, given my _filthy blood_ , as if it were _contagious_ or something.” She scoffed, “Anyway, he couldn’t ignore the heat any more than I could, and reluctantly, he removed his robes and his sweater. For a while, we sat there in silence, neither one of us speaking to the other, but periodically, I would catch him staring out of the corner of my eye. I assumed he had to be up to something, so I watched him, without him realizing what I was doing…at least that’s what I thought. Next thing I know, he starts unbuttoning his shirt, and pulling it off! Out of shock, I turned and looked at him, and the bastard had the gall to _smirk_ at me!” she said in a tone of disbelief.

Harry didn’t say anything, but his eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Of course, I immediately asked him what the hell he was playing at, but then he looked at me and said, ‘ _Granger, it’s hotter than hell in here. Just because you are too much of a prude to make yourself comfortable, doesn’t mean that I am. If you want to roast, be my guest_.’”

“As if the notion of being comfortable locked in a Potion’s cupboard with Riddle wasn’t already laughable, that arrogant prat had to go and _mock me_ , as if I was too modest to put safety first when my health was at risk!” She snorted.

“So what did you do?” Harry asked

“Naturally, I did the only thing that I could; I looked him square in the eye, and took my shirt off. You should have seen his face, it was priceless! I honestly don’t think he expected me to actually do it.” Hermione said biting back a smirk at the memory.

Harry’s eyes widened as he looked at Hermione in shock.

“I wasn’t about to let that sod get to me, so I gave him a smirk of my own, and flicked my wand without him noticing, spilling a bottle of bubotuber puss all over his lap for revenge. However, my plan backfired spectacularly, when he stood, without so much as a ‘ _by your leave’_ , and he dropped his pants. It took me several moments to remind myself to breathe, since he was standing in front of me now in only his boxers. I suppose I was too stunned to notice the bottle of Unicorn blood that suddenly splashed across my skirt.” Hermione admitted sheepishly.

“Please tell me you left your skirt on.” Harry said trying to scrub the image from his brain of Riddle in his boxer shorts.

“Well, I um…have you ever smelt unicorn blood, Harry? It’s not particularly pleasant. I didn’t have much of a choice. So, determined as I was to not seem like a coward in front of Riddle, I stood up, and met his eyes as I reached behind me and slowly unzipped my skirt, and let it fall to the floor. For a few moments, neither of us moved. I could see him staring, and tried my hardest not to fidget under his gaze. Then I noticed something that made me realize that I had the upper hand…”

“Merlin’s balls, Hermione…I’m not so sure I want to hear this.” Harry said rubbing his temples.

“You asked! So as I was saying, I knew I had the upper hand when I saw his Adam’s apple bob a few times. Well, that, and the obvious tent in his boxers were a dead giveaway.”

“For the love of…” Harry said dropping his head back in the armchair and pulling one of the throw pillows over his face.

“Next thing I know, I’m up against the door with my legs wrapped around his waist, and his tongue in my mouth. Believe it or not, it _did_ just happen. I certainly hadn’t gone to detention that night saying, ‘ _Gee, wouldn’t it be lovely to get snogged by Tom Riddle in the potion’s cupboard tonight?_ ’” Hermione said sarcastically.

“Okay, fine…but that still doesn’t explain how Riddle ended up with the broken umbrella from your beaded bag.” Harry said staring pointedly at Hermione.

“Well, before things could go any further, the door inexplicably opened, and we both toppled to the floor in a tangle of limbs. I scrambled off of him faster than Hippogriff chasing a ferret, and scrambled back into my clothes, unicorn blood and all. I grabbed my robes, and took off running back to Gryffindor tower, wanting to forget the entire ordeal ever happened. The next morning, in potion’s class, he stopped by my desk and had the audacity to smirk at me, then handed me my beaded bag. In my haste to get as far away from there as I could, I had apparently left it behind in the potion’s cupboard that night. Now I realize he had obviously orchestrated the entire thing in order to get his hands on it. Clearly, it was him who stole the umbrella.” Hermione concluded.

Harry shook his head, and stood from the armchair and began pacing the room, and Hermione walked over to the couch and flopped down on it before she sat up quickly rubbing her behind, “Ow!” she yelled before she stuck her hand between the cushions to see what it was that poked her.

Harry turned around quickly to see what was wrong, when he caught sight of Hermione holding none other than the missing broken umbrella.

“Thank Merlin, you found it! It seems that Riddle didn’t take it after all…hang on, Hermione, how did it end up in the couch cushions in the room of requirement? I thought you said it was in your beaded bag?” Harry asked.

Hermione’s cheeks flushed red at the question, and she sucked in a breath through her nose and looked anywhere but at Harry.

“Hermione?” he prodded.

“It must’ve fallen out of my bag when I was…otherwise occupied.” Hermione said being purposely vague.

“What is that supposed to mean? What were you doing?” Harry asked and Hermione bit her lip nervously, playing with handle of the broken umbrella.

“I uh…hmmmm.” Hermione said in embarrassment while she began to put all of her belongings back into her small beaded bag, including the broken umbrella.

“Hermione, I’m not going to ask you again, how did it end up in the couch cushions?” Harry asked incredulously as Hermione wrenched open the door to the Room of Requirement, only to find Tom Riddle standing outside of the door.

“Took you long enough…” Tom said to Hermione as he glared at Harry over her shoulder.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Tom, I told you I would meet you later… _much later_ …” she said through gritted teeth, shifting her eyes quickly to Harry

“Well, as it happens, it _is_ later.” Tom said smirking at Hermione.

“Is someone going to tell me what the in the bloody hell is going on here?” Harry spat incredulously.

Both Tom and Hermione turned to him simultaneously and said, “No!” before Tom pulled her back inside the Room of Requirement, slamming the door in Harry’s face. Harry heard Hermione giggle and a then moan softly before he finally understood how something could have fallen out of Hermione’s beaded bag and end up lost in the couch cushions…

 


	2. This was her Internship?!

**Prompt: “This was her Internship?!”**

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione ran a hand through her long curly hair, before grabbing her cloak and striding out of her office, and down the hall towards the main exit. It was already quite dark out this time of year, and the weather had grown quite chilly of late. As she walked across the nearly empty parking lot towards the sidewalk to hail a cab, she felt a sense that she was being watched. Her hand gripped the wand in her pocket tightly, as she spun on her heel, her eyes scanning the perimeter of the parking lot, although she couldn’t detect anyone in the vicinity.

 _Paranoia_ , she thought, as a cab pulled up beside the curb, and she slipped inside.

The cab had already pulled away when the crack of apparition split the air.

 

~~{0}~~

 

“My Lord” offered Draco as he knelt down in front of Voldemort, wisely keeping his eyes to the floor.

“Ah, Draco, what have you learned?” Voldemort asked coldly, a promise of punishment clear in his voice, should he not be satisfied with the answer.

“The Mudblood, my lord, I’ve found her.” Draco said with a sneer.

Voldemort’s lip curled at the corner, finding the mudblood brought him one step closer to discovering Potter’s location.

“Show me.”

~~{0}~~

 

The next morning, Hermione woke early, and quickly drank a steaming cup of coffee before hopping into the shower as part of her morning routine that she followed as she got ready for her Internship. She had thought long and hard about what she wanted to do with her future, and after facing years and years of blood prejudice due to being a Muggleborn witch, Hermione became fascinated with the study of Genetics. It was mostly studied by the muggles, and consequently ignored by the wizarding world, but, she was intelligent enough to understand that genetics affected wizards in precisely the same way as muggles. With a recommendation by Professor McGonagall, Hermione was accepted into a Magical University that required Hermione to complete an undergraduate internship program that would support her double major of Genetic Engineering and Medi-wizadry.

 

Hermione thought about how much had changed since graduation. Attacks by the Death Eaters had been increasing in their frequency, to the point that the Order was forced to take drastic measures. She had fought with the Order vehemently about it, since she and Ron were both told in no uncertain terms that in order to keep Harry safe, that the trio would need to be separated going forward. It was common knowledge after all these years, that where you found Hermione or Ron, you found Harry. With Dumbledore gone, Kingsley took over as the order’s leader, and made the tough decisions. After a lot of arguing, Harry agreed that Voldemort would never expect for them to be split up, and so, she and Ron had little choice than to acquiesce. Neither she nor Ron knew of Harry’s location, only his secret keeper knew, and even that information was classified. The only bit of information she received, was during order meetings, when a letter from Harry himself could be read. Sometimes, he would send an additional letter to her and Ron, but nothing as to his location, nor what progress he was making had ever been revealed.

After a while, she grew bored. She had assumed going into her final year at Hogwarts that she, Ron and Harry would be off on some epic adventure and finally take down the Dark Lord, and that it would be over, but she hadn’t expected this. There was literally nothing she could do. It was with this quiet acceptance, that she had approached Professor McGonagall, and told her of her desire to attend University. She had finally managed to convince the older witch when she showed her the pamphlets to the muggle facility where she had already been offered an internship. Surely, Voldemort or his Death Eaters would not be looking for the brightest witch of her age in the heart of Muggle London.

 

~~{0}~~

 

He strode purposely across the parking lot towards the brick and glass building that stood at the end, his wand resting safely in his pocket. He kept his eyes forward, trained on the glass door, and made his way up the stairs, glimpsing his reflection in the glass as the door opened before him, and the corners of his mouth lifted in barely a smirk. He approached the plump woman seated at the desk in front of him, a muggle to be sure, since he was unable to detect any trace of magic, and dazzled her with a charming smile.

“Can I help you, sir?” the woman asked, a faint blush rising to her cheeks as she looked at him.

“I have an appointment.” He said in a silky voice.

“Oh…” the woman said flustered, “Of course, Mr?” she asked raising her eyebrow and pulling out a thick appointment book.

“Molvedort” He said smoothly, the corner of his lips twitching.

“Ah yes, here you are. Take a seat, it’ll just be a moment.” She said giggling as she picked up a phone and spoke quietly with someone on the other end.

He didn’t have to wait long, as a familiar bushy head of hair approached the desk, and the plump woman pointed in his direction. Her eyes scanned him, and she looked away quickly, and walked towards him.

“You can follow me, please, this way.” She said looking away from him and walking quickly down the hall deeper into the building before coming to a stop at a small examination room.

“Right in here, if you please.” She said politely, once again meeting his eyes only breifly and quickly looking away.

He could sense that the girl was nervous, although he was certain she was unaware of his identity. The polyjuice had seen to that. If only she would keep eye contact, he could look into her mind, and get the information he needed.

“Right, so I’ll just need to ask you a few questions, and then we can get your sample.” Hermione stated clinically, keeping her eyes trained on the clipboard she held in her hands.

“Sample?” he asked in confusion.

“Yes, there’s no need to be nervous though, we have plenty of... _stimulus_ should you need it.” She supplied helpfully as she gestured for him to take a seat.

_What in merlin’s name was going on?_

“Age?”

He hesitated for a moment, and finally gave the rough age of the man he was currently polyjuiced to look like. It wouldn’t do for him to tell her he was seventy-five.

“Fourty-one.” He said smoothly, looking at her intensely as she made a note on the clipboard.

“Do you smoke?”

“No.” he answered immediately, remembering how Mrs. Cole had frequently smoked back in his days at the orphanage and how much it had disgusted him.

“That’s good, smoking kills!” Hermione chuckled nervously, and then schooled her features back into a mask of cool professionalism, “Sexual Orientation?”

“I don’t see how that…” he scoffed before she held up a hand to explain

“I just ask the questions, I’m certainly not judging.” she said carefully and glanced at him again quickly giving him a kind smile.

He cleared his throat, “I’m not gay.”

“So Hetero-sexual then?” she asked for confirmation.

“Yes.” He said uncomfortably. Why wouldn’t she just look at him?

“I’ll need you to fill out this brief health history form, but first, I’ll need to record your blood pressure if that is ok?” she asked him

He nodded, and she stepped over to his other side and pulled a black piece of fabric connected to some strange device on the wall.

“Can you please remove your jacket? I’ll need to place this on your upper arm.” She asked nervously, biting her lip.

He gazed at her for a moment, and her eyes met his briefly, not long enough to make a connection, but long enough that he realized that she found him physically attractive. _Maybe he could use that to his advantage?_

“Of course” he said silkily as his fingers slowly went to the button of his suit jacket and he unbuttoned them one by one. He continued to gaze at her, and watched as her eyes were riveted to his hands as each button popped open, and then he slid the jacket over his broad shoulders, and then started to unfasten the cuffs of shirt.

“I’m not sure I can get a proper reading if your sleeve is in the way.” She coughed lightly, and looked down at her clipboard blushing.

He smirked again, and unfastened the other cuff, and began to unbutton his shirt. His chest was pale, and well-toned, with a smattering of dark hair in the center. Hermione tried desperately to not stare at the small trail of dark hair that disappeared into the waistband of his trousers.

“Ready when you are.” He drawled, giving her a smoldering gaze. Inwardly, he chuckled at how easy it was to unsettle her. He was sure he would know all of her secrets by the time he left this strange muggle institution.

Hermione cleared her throat again, and stepped towards him, focusing intently on the blood pressure cuff, looking anywhere but at his face, or his chiseled chest.

Once the cuff was secured, she stuck a cold metal disk beneath it above his elbow, the other portion connected to a part that went into her ears; _how strange_. She began to pump a small balloon in her hand, and he could feel the band around his arm inflating. It was becoming uncomfortably tight.

“Ouch!” he cried when he felt that if she inflated the damn thing anymore, that his arm would surely pop off.

“Remain still please.” She said quietly, as she stared at the strange device on the wall for a moment, and then released the pressure in the cuff.

“Your blood pressure is good, 116 over 80. Healthy as a horse.” She said nervously, clearing her throat again and jotting the numbers own on her clip board.

“I’m almost out of your hair, I just need to take a quick blood sample, and then I can leave you to it.” She said as she set the clipboard down and pulled a syringe out of the cabinet and attached a rather large looking needle.

His eyes widened as he watched her, _what in the devil was she planning to do with that now?_

“It’ll only hurt for a moment.” She said calmly as she tied a tight piece of rubber tubing around his arm

“Um, I’m not…”he began before she grabbed his arm and quickly swabbed the skin at his elbow with an alcohol pad

“No one likes needles, I understand, but this is quite necessary.” She said sympathetically and before he knew what was happening she jabbed his arm with the needle.

“Fuck!” he cried and watched as his blood began to fill the tube.

He saw her smirk at his outburst, only saying, “It’ll be over in a moment.”

Finally, she pulled the needle out quickly, and pressed a piece of cotton against his skin where the needle had been, as she rifled through the draw next to him for something.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any plain ones left. One of the nurses bought these as a joke, but I suppose they’ll do in a pinch.” She said pulling out a Spongebob band-aid. _Oh the indignity_.

“Right, well, that’s all I need, so I’ll just give you this, and I’ll wait outside until you’re finished.” She said handing him a small plastic cup.

“What is this for?” he asked in confusion, looking at the cup with trepidation.

She blushed again, once again looking anywhere but at his face.

“Um…that’s for your sample.” She said awkwardly.

“My… _sample_?” he asked, still completely not understanding what she was asking for.

“Yes, I need a sample of your semen.” She said as clinically and professionally as she could, although her cheeks were scarlet.

His eyes widened, _what the hell kind of a place was this?!_ Not wanting to blow his cover, he took the proffered cup, and looked around the room helplessly.

“There’s um…magazines…in the cupboard.” She stammered wanting to die of mortification.

Now he really looked confused.

“I believe there are also some pornographic videos with the television in that closet, if you need it. I’ll just wait outside.” She said practically running from the room. It figured, the first patient under her internship at the fertility clinic would be a severely hot guy looking to donate sperm.

Voldemort stood in a state of shock in the center of the small examination room, still shirtless and holding the small plastic cup. He was going to kill Draco Malfoy. How could he not warn him? _This was her internship?!_ And above all, he still hadn’t managed to legillimize her, and discover Potter’s location.

There was a moment of panic, after ten minutes where he made no move to do anything. Merlin, he couldn’t do this here…not that he hardly did it to begin with, but sitting in a sterile room with Potter’s Mudblood standing outside of the door, was giving him performance anxiety. His anxiety only increased when he felt the stirrings of the polyjuice potion beginning to wear off.

Shit. He hadn’t brought anymore, thinking he would be in and out.

His plan was falling apart at the seams. If he was going to get the information he came for, he was going to have to take drastic measures.

He sighed, and opened the cupboard, and a few magazines fell onto the counter. One of them had a naked dark haired woman with large breasts on the cover, winking. Strangely enough, she looked a lot like Bellatrix LeStrange, and he shuddered. The next one had a petite redhead on the cover sucking on a lollypop. He smirked recalling young Miss Weasley…yes,that one would do _nicely_.

Another ten minutes passed, and he placed the cover on the sample jar, and washed his hands at the sink as Hermione had instructed. A moment later, he heard a soft knock on the door, and he bid her to enter.

She was looking down at her clipboard as she stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.

“I just wanted to extend our gratitude to you, Mister…” as she scanned the clipboard looking for his name.

“Molvedort.”

Her eyes widened, and her whole body stiffened. Nothing could have prepared her for the sight as she looked up into a pair of familiar crimson eyes; The Dark Lord himself stood before her, holding out his sample.

“It was my _pleasure_ , Miss Granger.”

 


	3. Psycho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a dark and stormy night, a bitter and exhausted Hermione seeks shelter at a run-down inn after catching her fiancé cheating on her, only to find that her troubles have only just begun.
> 
>  
> 
> [](Psycho)  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!!! I couldn’t resist giving a Harry Potter twist to a timeless Horror classic. This is a Tomione one-shot, Non-magic AU (Obviously!!) I hope you all enjoy it!! Xoxo Please let me know if you like it!

 

* * *

 

She was working late, _again_ , as she looked out of her office window into the dark cloudy sky, the rain was already coming down in torrents. She sighed as she set down her pen as her eyes scanned the headline on the front page of the newspaper that sat upon her desk, ‘ _Search for Missing Beauty Queen Continues’_. She tossed the paper in the recycle bin, and logged off of her computer, making a mental note to buy an umbrella as she pulled on her raincoat and grabbed her bag. He heels echoed through the empty lobby, as she made her way towards the exit. As she stepped out onto the rain soaked pavement, a streak of lightning momentarily lit up the sky causing her to jump. The thunder quickly followed, and Hermione ran as quickly as she could to her car. Even in the few feet from the building to where her car sat parked, she was already soaked through clear to her skin. Exhausted, and shivering from the cold wet rain, she flipped the heat on in her car, and pulled out of the deserted parking lot towards home. She hoped that Ron had saved her some of the leftover stew that she had made the day before, but knowing him, most likely not. Thoughts of a warm bath and a good book swirled in her mind, as she drove down the empty streets, finally pulling into her parking lot. As she parked the car, she pulled her coat tightly around herself, bracing herself to face the cold rain once more as she dashed to the door of her apartment building. Her wet hair clung to her face, and she took off her soaked raincoat and shook it out before she opened the door to the apartment that she shared with her fiancé, Ron.

The lights were off in the living room, which was odd. Maybe Ron had gone out? She stepped inside and kicked her shoes off by the door, and hung up her coat, and dropped her bag onto the couch as she walked down the hall towards their bedroom, wanting nothing more than to strip off her wet clothes and slip into a warm bath. She stopped short just outside of the bedroom door, which was left slightly ajar, a soft light emanating from within, when she heard it; a _moan_. Her heart did a backflip in her chest, and her worst fears were confirmed as she flung open the door; Ron was fucking his ex-girlfriend Lavender in _their_ bed.

“Hermione! It’s not what it looks like…” Ron stammered as he spring off of Lavender in surprise, clutching a pillow to hide his nakedness.

“Oh? Please explain, then _Ronald_ , because it looks to me like you were fucking your ex-girlfriend in our bed.” Hermione spat venomously, her eyes darting between her fiancé and the woman in her bed who was pathetically trying to cover herself with the sheet.

“It just happened, I swear, it didn’t mean anything!” he protested as Hermione glared at him before stalking past him and pulling open the bedroom closet door with more force than necessary.

“What’re you doing? Hermione??” Ron pleaded following her over to the closet.

“What does it look like? I’m leaving!” Hermione spat as she threw the suitcase on the end of the bed, not caring if it hit Lavender.

“Hermione, No please… let’s talk about this …Don’t throw everything we had away over this! I made a mistake!” He pleaded.

“A mistake?! Ronald, a mistake is forgetting to mail a check, a mistake is forgetting to turn the oven off. Fucking your ex-girlfriend in _our bed_ when you know I’m coming home is _not_ a mistake! The wedding is off!” she shouted pushing him back away from her as she tossed some of her clothes haphazardly in the suitcase. She could send for the rest of it later, but right now, she wanted to get the hell out of there.

“Hermione, please…” Ron continued to beg, though his words fell on deaf ears.

“Goodbye, Ronald, I hope this” and she gestured to Lavender in disgust, “was worth it.” Hermione spat as she grabbed her suitcase off the bed and swept out of the bedroom towards the door, slipping her aching feet back into her heels as she walked out.

As soon as the door slammed shut behind her, angry tears began to well in her eyes. She felt completely humiliated, but most of all betrayed. Ron had been her best friend for so many years before they had gotten together. She had been there to nurse him through his broken heart when Lavender had dumped him for another guy years ago, and eventually, as they became closer, they had finally made the leap from friends to lovers. It was not long after that Ron had proposed, to his mother’s delight, since she had always wanted grandchildren for as long as Hermione could remember. During the year that they had been engaged, things had slowly started to unravel, even if she chose not to see it. It meant more to her to have a career than dropping everything to get pregnant and be a stay at home mom, much like Ron’s mother had. If she were honest with herself, she could admit that was also partially why she hadn’t taken any initiative to actually plan their wedding. It also hadn’t helped that Ron had accused her of being selfish for wanting a career, and that he had always been jealous of their other best friend Harry’s relationship with Ron’s sister Ginny. Hindsight though, was twenty/twenty.

As she fumbled with her keys to unlock her car, once again getting soaked from the relentless rain, she finally managed to get her door open and she threw her suitcase in the backseat. She scrambled into the driver’s seat, slamming the door and locking it. The tears were falling in earnest now, and she knew there was only one place she could go; back to her parent’s house. The thought of having to run back to her parents after all these years made her feel like a failure, but under the circumstances, she didn’t have much of a choice. With that thought in mind, she peeled out of the parking lot for the last time, and drove away.

 

~~{0}~~

 

Her eyes were beginning to droop, and the rain was still coming down so hard, it was difficult to see. She had been driving now for three hours, and she knew she was not even halfway to her parent’s home town. A chime in her dash sounded, and she saw that her gas light had come on.

“Fantastic.” She muttered to herself sarcastically as she flicked on her high beams and squinted her eyes trying to see through the sheets of rain marring her vision as she approached a sign on the side of the highway. The sign showed that at the next exit, there was gas and lodging available, and so, she made up her mind to stop for the night and continue on the next morning. The exit was another mile up the road, and she flicked her blinker on, and she took the exit.

There was only one direction to go off of the exit, and little ways down the road, a sign read, ‘ _Entering Little Hangleton’_. Hermione let out a frustrated noise when there seemed to be no sign of a gas station, and was about to turn around when a lit up sign in the distance caught her eye; The sign read, ‘ _Riddle’s Inn’._

She offered up a silent ‘ _thank you’_ to whomever had been watching over her, and she continued down the road until she reached the Inn, deciding she could stop for the night and worry about finding a gas station in the morning. She pulled through the large open wrought iron gate, and down the winding driveway up to the large brick manor style house that was covered in ivy that sat just at the edge of a large cemetery. There were a few lights on in the upper floors, and she could see the silhouette of someone sitting in front of one of the windows. She parked her car, and ran to the door, once again getting lashed by the torrential rain. She knocked quickly, and the door was suddenly wrenched open.

Hermione’s breath hitched as she took in the young man standing before her in the doorway; he was incredibly handsome, and she felt a nervous flutter in her stomach in response.

“Well, don’t just stand there in the rain, come in.” he said playfully as he stepped to the side allowing her to enter.

“I’m sorry to bother you so late at night, but this rain is just awful, and I’m quite tired.” Hermione said sheepishly, brushing her wet hair back from her face.

“It’s no trouble, Miss, and well, we don’t get many visitors out this way.” He said kindly handing her a dry towel.

“The sign on the highway said there was a gas station, though I didn’t see one.” Hermione said conversationally as she dried her hair with the towel.

“Yeah, the sign is a bit misleading. There is a gas station, but it’s a small one, and not open at this time of night. In this weather, I’m sure you didn’t even see it.” He said as he led her over to a desk just to the left of the large foyer.

“My name’s Tom, by the way, Tom Riddle.” He said as he held out his hand to her.

Hermione looked at his outstretched hand, and shook it gently, once again feeling a pleasant tingle in her belly as her hand touched his “I’m Hermione Granger, it’ nice to meet you Tom.”

He grinned, and grabbed a register from beneath the desk and opened it so that she could sign in.

“We’re still a bit behind the times here I’m afraid, with so few guests, there doesn’t seem to be any point to installing an electronic check in system.” He said giving her a shy smile as he watched her sign her name with a flourish in the book.

She glanced up at him shyly, giving him a small smile, as she finished filling in her information.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what were you running from?” Tom asked casually.

Hermione’s eyes widened, “Excuse me?” she asked, taken aback by his blunt line of questioning.

“I don’t mean to be rude, it’s just that well, you look a like you’ve been through something, and as I said, we don’t often have visitors here, especially at this time of night in weather like this. You must’ve been in a quite hurry to leave wherever you came from.” He said looking at her innocently.

Hermione swallowed, “Well um, to be honest Tom, I’m not sure I really want to talk about it.” Hermione said meeting his eyes, and then glancing towards the parlor that was off to the right.

“Of course, forgive me.” He said grabbing a metal key off the rack behind the desk, “Well, your room is this way, follow me.”

Hermione nodded, “Oh, my bag?” Hermione questioned, wondering if she should run back out into the rain to get it from the car.

“I’ll get it for you once I show you your room.” He said giving her another handsome grin.

Hermione bit her lip, and followed along behind him, admiring the beauty of the old house.

“You have a lovely home.” Hermione said politely, “You don’t live here by yourself, do you?” Hermione asked, she had noticed that he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

“Oh, no, my father lives here with me. He hasn’t been himself since my mother passed away, you see, so I take care of managing the Inn.” He said glancing at her over his shoulder as they approached her room.

“Oh, that must’ve been who I saw sitting by the upstairs window.” She said absently.

“Well, here we are. I thought it best to give you the room near mine, just in case you need anything.” He said as he stuck the key in the old fashioned lock, and turned the knob.

Hermione gasped when she saw the room; it was large, with ornately carved mahogany furniture, complete with a four-poster bed.

“This room is beautiful” she breathed in awe, looking around as she walked in.

Tom smiled, “I do my best to maintain the house, though I admit, it is quite a bit of work. Say, I’ll go get your bags for you, is there anything else you need?” Tom asked kindly.

Just then, Hermione’s stomach rumbled. With everything that had happened, she never had the opportunity to eat.

“Um, actually, I am rather hungry. I don’t suppose there is any place to get food nearby?” Hermione asked giving him a hopeful look.

Tom shook his head, “Not at this time of night, I’m afraid, but, would you like to join me for dinner in the kitchen? It’s nothing fancy, I was just about to make some sandwiches before you arrived.” Tom asked biting his lip nervously and giving her a hopeful smile.

“I’d like that.” Hermione agreed, pulling her raincoat off and hanging it on a hook by the door.

“Excellent. I’ll not be long then.” He said as he turned and closed the door behind him.

Hermione sighed and flopped down across the bed, and relished in its softness. She heard Tom’s footsteps jog up the wooden staircase, presumably to go check on his father before he headed outside to get her things.

She jumped when she heard an older man’s voice yelling.

_What are you doing inviting that trollop to our kitchen table, boy? I’ll not have my son cavorting with every floozy that winds up on our doorstep!_

‘ _Father, please, don’t speak of Hermione that way, she’s just tired and hungry_.’ She heard Tom’s voice answer.

‘ _Oh, so it’s Hermione, now, is it? With a name like that she must be a mudblood!_ ’ the older man snarled

‘ _Father!_ ’ Tom’s voice sounded appalled.

‘ _Don’t give me that, boy, I know what sort of thoughts are going around that filthy head of yours_.’

She heard a door slam suddenly, and Tom’s footsteps once again moving hurriedly down the stairs. She moved away from the door, wondering whether she should just take her chances sleeping in her car, since she felt decidedly uncomfortable sleeping under the same roof as the awful man upstairs. At least Tom had the decency to defend her. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t even hear the knock at first on her door, until he knocked a second time. She opened the door, and Tom stood dripping wet in her doorway with her bag by his feet, holding a plate of sandwiches in his hand.

“I’m sorry if you heard…” Tom started looking down at the plate in his hands guiltily.

Hermione opened the door wider for him to come into her room, and he stepped inside as she closed the door behind him, taking the plate from his hands.

“No, it’s alright, I honestly don’t want to cause you any trouble.” Hermione said quietly, setting the plate down on the small coffee table. He was still standing by the door, looking down at his hands nervously, an unreadable look on his handsome face. His white tee shirt was soaked through, and it clung to his toned chest underneath. He looked up at her then, with a look of such utter longing, that Hermione couldn’t stop her fingers as they lifted to his face. His eyes drifted shut as he pressed his cheek into her hand, and before she knew what she was doing, she closed the distance between them and pulled his face down to hers, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. In that moment, she didn’t care that her Ron had cheated on her with another woman, or that there was a bitter old man upstairs. All she could think about was how his lips felt against hers, and how his hands were tightly gripping her waist.

Her hands moved to the hem of his wet shirt, and she lifted it over his head, running her hands down the smooth planes of his chest. His fingers made quick work of the buttons on her still damp blouse, pulling it off of her shoulders as he trailed open-mouthed kisses down her neck. Hermione arched into him, wanting to be even closer, when he lifted her off the floor and carried her over to the bed. He laid her down gently on the bed, and crawled on top of her, never breaking the kiss as she tangled her fingers in his soft hair. His lips trailed down her neck, and he nipped at her collarbone, his hips rolling into hers insistently. She felt his hardness against her thigh, and moaned, running her fingernails across his back.

“Make love to me, Tom” she breathed against his neck, raising her hips to meet his.

His hands slid up the undersides of her thighs, disappearing beneath the hem of her skirt, as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down her legs. Her skirt followed shortly after, along with his jeans.

“You’re beautiful”, he breathed against her heated skin, as he slid into her welcoming heat. She gasped and her eyes slipped shut as she felt him fill her completely.

“Look at me” he commanded as he began to move inside her, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. Her eyes snapped open, and she met his dark gaze as her hips rocked forward to meet his thrusts

“Oh God, yes…please don’t stop” she gasped as she felt her orgasm beginning to build within her. She captured his lips again, as he groaned into her mouth, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he pushed her closer to the edge.

“Stay with me” he whispered against her throat as she cried out, her orgasm washing over her as she shuddered beneath him. He thrust into her a final time as he came gripping her tightly as if she would disappear.

“Mine” he whispered into her ear as he breathing returned to normal. He rolled off of her, pulling her into his side, and dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. Within moments, her eyes drifted shut, and she fell asleep against his chest.

 

~~{0}~~

 

She was awoken sometime in the night by a large bang that sounded a lot like a gunshot. She jolted out of bed, expecting Tom to still be asleep beside her, but the bed was empty. She climbed out of bed, pulling her clothes back on, and fumbling for her cell phone to see what time it was. Her phone lit up, showing it was nearly 5am, though it was still dark outside. She knew she’d never get back to sleep, and thought that she may as well try and get back on the road, since she still had a few hours drive to reach her parents house. She tossed her few belongings into her bag, and made her way to the door. Tom had said his room was near hers, _maybe he had returned to his own room after she’d fallen asleep_?

She padded across the hall quietly, to the door that she assumed must be his, and knocked quietly.

“Tom?” she called, but there was no answer.

She reached out her hand to try the knob, and it was unlocked, so she opened the door and peeked inside.

“Tom?” she called out again, but the room was empty. The bed sat unmade, and her eyes swept around the room curiously. She was just about to leave when something glittered in the darkness, catching her eye. Hermione closed the door as quietly as she could, and crept over to the small end table by his bed, and picked up what appeared to be a small tiara that held a light blue stone in it’s center. Hermione’s brows furrowed in confusion; _What would Tom be doing with a tiara?_ She set it back down, and left the room. She really wanted to find him to say goodbye after the night they had spent together, and then she realized that he must be upstairs checking on his father. Hermione debated with herself internally, not wanting to come face to face with the man who had insulted her so thoroughly to Tom the night before, but she knew her conscience wouldn’t allow her to leave without saying goodbye after everything they shared. She took a deep breath, and began to climb the stairs, hoping she would find him quickly. Once she reached the top landing, she tip-toed to the first door on the left, and knocked quietly. Once again, there was no answer, so she tried the doorknob, and it was locked. She continued to the next door, which was also locked, and so she sighed glancing toward the door at the end of the hall. She knew that must be Tom’s father’s room, and after another minute of debating, she crept towards it, and knocked softly. There was no answer, and she hoped that he was sleeping. The last thing she wanted to do was to disturb the old man.

She tried the knob, and it was unlocked, and so she pushed it open gently, as she poked her head inside looking for Tom. The room was dark, but she could see someone sitting in what looked like a wheelchair in front of the large window.

“Sir, I’m terribly sorry to disturb you, I’m just looking for Tom.” He said bracing herself for the insults that were sure to come her way.

When the man didn’t stir, and didn’t respond, she wondered if maybe he had fallen asleep in his chair. Against her better judgment, she crept quietly towards where he sat, and reached a hand out to gently touch his shoulder. The sight that met her eyes made her blood freeze in heir veins, and a scream tear from her throat. The man was dead, and by the looks of it, he had been dead for quite some time. His eyes had sunken in, and were milky white, his skin was mostly desiccated, as if he had been mummified. She scrambled backwards so quickly; desperate to get away that she almost tripped over her own feet. Her breath was coming in short pants, and suddenly it all clicked into place; the tiara in Tom’s room, and the missing beauty queen from the newspaper…

Terror gripped her as she ran down the stairs and out the front door, fumbling for her keys as her hands shook violently. Just as she climbed into her car and locked the door, she saw Tom emerging from the cemetery covered in dirt and holding a shovel. His eyes were wild as they met hers, and she screamed as she started the car and threw it in reverse. He was running towards her car, and as she spun the car around, she threw the car into drive and peeled out of the driveway, a strangled sob coming from her throat as she glanced in the rear view mirror to see that he had stopped chasing her. She heard a chime, and her eyes darted to the low fuel light that was once again lit up on her dash. She said a silent prayer that she could find some help before she ran out. A few Miles down the road, she saw a diner, and pulled in, slamming on the brakes and fumbling to put the car in park before running inside to ask for help. The last thing she remembered before she fainted was the concerned look on the waitresses face as she dialed 9-1-1.

 

~~{0}~~

 

“Hermione. Hermione wake up.” A familiar voice was saying as her eyes fluttered. Her head felt fuzzy, and she licked her dry lips.

“Where am I?” she asked, still not wanting to open her eyes as the pounding in her head increased.

“You’re in a hospital, Miss, you were in a right state, scared the poor waitress half to death.” Another voice, female this time, said kindly.

“I don’t understand…” Hermione began, but the nurse set her hand on Hermione’s arm to sooth her and encourage her to relax.

“You’re a very lucky girl. Your husband came as soon as we called him. Luckily his number was in your phone. He’s been worried sick over you, poor dear.” The nurse said sympathetically.

 _Ron? Had they called Ron?!_ “Husband? I don’t…” Hermione’s eyes snapped open.

“Hush dear, you’re not well.” The familiar voice said again, and tendril of fear swept down her spine. She slowly turned her head towards him, her breathing becoming shallow. He was sitting in the chair beside her bed, his perfectly combed wavy locks falling over one eye, a knowing smirk on his lips.

“He’s not my husband! He’s going to kill me! You have to help me!” she pleaded with the nurse.

The nurse looked at her sadly, and then gave a sympathetic look to Tom.

“This must be so difficult for you, dear. Dementia is a horrible disease.” The nurse shook her head sadly as she looked at Tom.

“She has her good days, and her bad ones. This is by far the worst.” He said sadly to the nurse before he met her eyes once more with his dark gaze, “Hermione, my love, you know I would never hurt you. Everything will be alright once I get you home.” He said so convincingly, it sent a chill down her spine.

“Well, aside from her confusion, she appears to be in good health. If you’ll just sign here, Mr. Riddle, I’ll release her to your care.” The nurse said handing him a clipboard.

“No! Please don’t let him take me!” Hermione screamed, clutching the nurse desperately, “He’s not my husband!”

The nurse just looked at her sadly, “Perhaps I can give her a sedative?” she said to Tom, with a look of profound sympathy.

“That would probably be for the best.” He said quietly, looking upset by the whole ordeal.

“No! No Please!” Hermione sobbed as she tried to get out of the bed, only to be forcefully held down by Tom.

The nurse returned a moment later, and Hermione sobbed helplessly as the nurse injected a sedative into her IV. She felt her eyes growing heavy, and just before her eyes slipped shut, Tom leaned in close to whisper in her ear, “I’ll never let you go again, Hermione.”


	4. Wrong Number

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a one shot that popped into my head so I wrote it. I snickered a lot while writing it, so I hope you enjoy. Those of you who liked Magical Match and Secret Life of Death Eaters, this story has a similar vibe. There is smut (Duh!) so be warned! leave me review! xo

Hermione stared unfocused through the window of the tube as it whizzed by the empty platform. It had been another night of working late, and all she wanted was to get back to her flat and have a long soak in a hot bath with a good book. Between Wizengamot appeals for the abolishment of House Elf enslavement, Affirmative Action plans for Werewolves, as well as the acknowledgment of Nargles as a species, it had been a really long day.

Hermione reflected on how far she'd come from her days at Hogwarts. Upon graduation, she had her fair share of job offers from the ministry as expected, and so that was how she found herself as the director of the newly added Department of Magical Welfare within the Ministry of Magic, overseeing what Hermione believed to be their most important outreach program to date. The outreach program, known as  _Project F.U.C.K_., was based on the notion that four fundamental key elements were crucial to finally putting an end to the prejudice that dictated many archaic practices that were rampant in the wizarding world: Freedom, Unity, Compassion, and Kindness. Rather simple really, but still desperately needed in a time when the threat of Voldemort still hung over Great Britain. As a way to clear her head, she began to take muggle transportation back to her flat in the evenings rather than the using the Ministry's floo network; it seemed to give her time to decompress, and leave her work at the office where it belonged.

Voldemort's forces were still a constant threat, one that the Order had to become more creative in evading these days. It was one afternoon, about a month back, when the order was struggling to come up with a way to keep in close contact without being intercepted, as owls often were, that Harry came up with a plan that was so patently ironic, that the Order immediately embraced the idea; from that day forward, they carried muggle cell phones.

She heard the chime signaling a new text message, and pulled the phone from her pocket and read the message. She didn't recognize the number, but, she knew it was more than likely a muggle who had mis-dialed.

_You're one to talk, for someone who spends an awful lot of time on your knees in my presence…_

Hermione's mouth gaped, and she snorted. The poor bloke would probably be mortified to learn he had sent that message to a complete stranger. Maybe it was because she was over-tired, but she decided to have some fun with him.

_You've never complained about it before!_

She chuckled evilly and hit send.

A few minutes later, her phone chimed again, and she read the message

_Well, no…I rather enjoy it, but that's beside the point._

Hermine laughed out loud and covered her hand with her mouth. Clearly, he hadn't yet realized he had the wrong number. She hit reply, and began to type. If he hadn't figured it out yet, he most likely would now.

_I bet you do. It's because I do that thing with my tongue…_

She had to bite her lip to stifle her laughter, and hit send. A minute later, another chime sounded and she decided she was having way too much fun with this poor muggle.

_What?!_

Hermione hit reply and decided to let him in on the joke.

 _You have the wrong number. I'd say have a pleasant evening, but by the sounds of it, it seems you already are_  *wink*

She hit send and shoved her phone back into her bag as the doors opened onto the platform that was her stop. She pulled her jacket tighter around herself to ward off the chill in the air, and walked the three blocks down to her flat.

Crookshanks was waiting by the door, as usual as she entered, and he proceeded to rub against her legs as was his usual custom when he wanted her to feed him. She bent down to pick him up, scratching behind his fluffy ears, and brought him into the small kitchenette with her.

"Let's see what we have to eat, Crooks." She said as she pulled out a tin of fancy feast from the cupboard. Unsurprisingly, he turned his nose up at it and strolled out of the kitchen.

"Or not." She chuckled, and opened the fridge. She had some left over ham, so she pulled it out and used the last of it to make a ham and cheese sandwich for herself, and the rest she cut up and put into Crookshanks' dish.

"It's not gourmet, but it'll have to do until I can get to the market." She told him as she took a bite of her sandwich as she leaned against the counter watching the pretentious half-kneazle examine the ham. When she finished her sandwich, she made her way back to her living room to pick up her bag where she had dropped it on the floor, and fished out her phone. She had a new text message. It was from the wrong number guy.

_Clearly. Care to elaborate on what it is that you do with your tongue?_

Hermione scoffed and hit reply. She could practically hear the arrogance in his tone.  _Clearly_. Pfft.

_That is for me to know…Besides, I don't make a habit of being on my knees, unless I'm getting something in return._

Hermione smirked and hit send, then padded to the bathroom so she could take her long awaited bath with a good book.

As she sunk into the warm water, complete with lilac scented bubbles, she heard her phone chime again with another incoming message.

_Interesting, though I don't make a habit of returning favors, I could be persuaded if the offer was…tempting enough._

Hermione scoffed when she read his message; what a pig!

_With that attitude, things must get very boring for you. Besides, one can find just as much joy in giving as receiving._

Hermione snickered as she hit send, and dunked herself under the water. The guy sounded like an utter caveman. Why was she even still talking to him?

As she popped her head back above the water, another chime sounded and she sighed, grabbing her phone with wet fingers.

_Well, maybe I've been giving it to the wrong person._

Hermione choked and laughed out loud at his response.

_Well, you know what they say, beggars can't be choosers._

She hit send with more force than necessary. A guy with an attitude like that should count his blessings that any woman would even give him the time a day, let alone be complaining that they weren't good enough for his attention.

Unsurprisingly, her phone chimed again only a minute later

_Are you implying that I have to seek out the company I keep? I'll have you know that women and men alike beg for my attention._

Hermione's eyebrows rose at that one. He plays for both teams? Well, Good for him.

_Though I am glad to hear that you are all for equal-opportunity, I must confess that your arrogance is nauseating. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to finish my bath in peace._

She hit send and slapped the phone down on the small vanity that stood next to her claw-foot bathtub, and closed her eyes, trying to let the tensions from the day seep out of her.

Unfortunately, her phone actually rang this time, and she practically jumped out of her skin. She grabbed the phone without bothering to look at the screen,

"Oh for the love of God, I don't know how else to spell it out for you; you sound like a terrible lover."

"Who's a terrible lover?" Harry's voice said as he chuckled on the other end of the line.

Hermione groaned, "No one, nevermind." She said quickly, "What is it?"

Harry was still laughing, "Hermione, you didn't think I was  _Krum_  just now, did you?"

Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair, "Of course not, Harry, I told you, nothing ever happened between Viktor and I."

"Because he was a terrible lover?" Harry teased her.

"What was it that you needed?" Hermione said in annoyance, doing her best to change the subject.

Harry cleared his throat on the other end, "Oh, right; Dumbledore wanted me to call you to tell you that we're meeting at the Burrow the Saturday after next."

Hermione nodded. "Right, I'll be there." She said rolling her eyes when she heard Harry sniggering again on the other end.

"Anything else?" she asked in exasperation.

"Yeah…how is Project FUCK coming along?" Harry asked as he burst out in laughter once more.

"Honestly, Harry, it's Project F.U.C.K, not  _FUCK_. Grow up, will you?"

Harry's only response was more laughter, and she rolled her eyes at his immaturity.

"Goodbye, Harry!" She said in annoyance and ended the call, dropping the phone on her vanity once again. By the time she finally finished her bath, she was actually annoyed to realize she was slightly disappointed that the wrong number guy hadn't responded to her last text.

 

~~{0}~~

 

"Kingsley, I told you how important this meeting is; it's vital to the project that the Wizengamot is on board." Hermione protested, as she followed along trying to match the Minister's long strides.

"Hermione, I'm sorry, but this project is just not a priority right now. Until the Dark Lord is defeated, we have to channel all of our resources elsewhere." He said with an air of finality that effectively ended the conversation.

She stood in the hall staring at his retreating back, angry at being dismissed so casually, as if she didn't understand the impact that Voldemort had on the wizarding world. She turned sharply on her heels and strode back to her office. It made her blood boil to think of all the long hours she had been putting in, only to have the Minister brush her off as if the work she was doing was unimportant. She grabbed her coat and bag off of the coat rack and stormed out of her office, intent on heading home when she instead ducked into a small pub on a whim. Hermione had never been much of a drinker, but after today, she really needed something to calm her down. The pub was mostly empty, as her heels clicked against the worn wood flooring as she made her way towards the bar. There was one other person seated at the bar, but she ignored them as she threw her bag down heavily into the seat beside her and ordered a whiskey without even looking up at the bartender.

"Bad day?" a melodic voice asked from somewhere nearby, and her head popped up and glanced over towards the stranger sitting at the bar. Hermione flushed noticing how handsome he was, and quickly averted her eyes.

"Quite." She answered in clipped tones, not wanting to be rude, but not really in the mood for conversation either.

"Well, that makes two of us." He said lifting his glass of whiskey to his lips, taking a large gulp.

The bartender set a glass down in front of Hermione, and she reached out her hand to snatch the bottle before he could walk away with it, "I'd like to hang on to this for a bit, if you don't mind." She said and the bartender nodded and walked away.

She chanced a glance over at the handsome man sitting two seats down from her, wondering if he was judging her. He probably already profiled her as an alcoholic. I mean, who else goes to a pub in the middle of the afternoon on a workday, and requests not only a glass, but an entire bottle of whiskey.

Surprisingly, she couldn't see any judgement, but he was watching her closely, with a slight smirk playing at the corner of his lips. She surprised herself, when against her better judgement, she opened her mouth again, "Would you care to join me?"

Hermione detested drinking alone, and seeing as how he was also drinking whiskey, and apparently had also had a shit day, she figured why not. Misery loves company, after all.

He nodded slightly, and followed her over to a quiet booth, and slipped into the seat across from her. Hermione picked up the bottle of whiskey and filled his glass, and then lifted hers to her lips, taking a deep drink, before she promptly choked.

His smirk broadened, "You don't drink much, do you?" he asked knowingly as he watched her reaching for the glass of water on the table, her eyes watering pitifully.

"Is it that obvious?" she chuckled once she was able to speak.

"A bit." He said grinning at her in a way that made her stomach do a little flip. Or maybe that was just the whiskey…

"So, tell me, what brings you to a pub in the middle of an afternoon to get pissed?" he asked conversationally, lifting his glass to his lips

Hermione sighed, "Well, you see, I've been working on this project that really is rather important to me, and after months of work, I've been told in no uncertain terms that Project F.U.C.K. is just not a priority for the Ministry at this time."

The man across from her choked on his whiskey, "Project… _FUCK_?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "What is it with everyone? It's not FUCK, it's F.U.C.K." Hermione snapped haughtily.

"You know that F.U.C.K. spells Fuck though, right?" He said giving her a genuine smile, and she couldn't help but bite back her own smirk.

"Of course I do, that's beside the point." Hermione scoffed.

"Well, what exactly, is this Project F.U.C.K.?"

Hermione's eyes lit up at his question. She rarely had the chance to discuss it, since so few in the wizarding world cared about the welfare of magical creatures, which unfortunately was the root of the entire problem.

"It stands for Freedom, Unity, Compassion, and Kindness." She answered, and then gaped at him as he snorted in derision.

Annoyed with his reaction, she launched into lecture mode, "I'll have you know, that those four elements are vital to the welfare of all Magical creatures. Including Wizards." She snapped.

He raised an eyebrow at her, and set his drink down in front of him, "Alright, lets say for the sake of argument, that you have a society where different groups of wizards have very differing… _opinions_  on how society should function. What role, exactly, would project F.U.C.K. serve in solving this issue, as you see it?" He asked folding his arms over his chest expectantly.

Her eyes lit up in excitement again, as she prepared her answer.

"The first step is literally the first pillar of Project F.U.C.K.; Freedom must be granted and legally upheld to all involved. In this case, Wizards are already mostly free, with the exception of Werewolves. They require dual rights as granted to both wolves and Wizards. Once Freedom has been assured, Unity is the next step, which is achieved by forming community organizations that promote the other two aspects; Compassion and Kindness. If one sect of the population has an issue with another sect, it is up to the government, or government sponsored outreach programs to provide and promote the education necessary for overcoming these differences, thus inspiring Unity." Hermione answered folding her hands on the table in front of her.

"It sounds like the hippy mantra, ' _make love not war'_ , which if you think about it, would be a much more apt slogan for Project F.U.C.K." He said chuckling as he lifted his glass to his lips.

Hermione snorted, "Right, well if a good fuck was all it takes to win a war, I'd take one for the team."

Once again he choked on his whiskey, and Hermione laughed, lifting her glass to her lips, "Cheers!" as she gulped down the rest of her drink.

"Enough about me, why are you drinking by yourself in the middle of the afternoon?" she asked feeling a bit more bold as the fire whiskey settled into her stomach.

"Not alone." He tipped his glass to her before refilling it, and then topping hers off again.

"Right." She acknowledged, encouraging him to continue.

"Well, aside from the fact that I am endlessly surrounded by idiots who can't seem to follow the simplest of instructions, some items were recently stolen…irreplaceable heirlooms…that meant a great deal to me." He said taking another sip of his drink, meeting her eyes with his dark gaze.

"I'm so sorry." She said quietly, "I have a cat, a half-kneazle really, who I feel that way about. If anything ever happened to my Crookshanks, I don't know what I'd do." She said giving him a sympathetic look, and reached over the table to lay her hand over his.

His eyes flicked down to her hand that covered his, and he raised an eyebrow at her, "Yes, well, here's to hoping Crookshanks lives to a ripe old age." he said taking another sip of his drink.

Just then, Hermione's phone chimed with an incoming text message, and a look of surprise crossed his face as he watched her pull her hand away, and reach into her bag to pull it out.

"You have a cell phone." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, I find then rather handy", she said remembering that most witches and wizards looked down on muggle technology, and she blushed.

He smirked and pulled his own cell from the back pocket of his dark jeans, "Funny, that's exactly what I said too."

Feeling a bit more daring, Hermione took another sip of her whiskey for courage, "So is this the part where you ask for my number?" Hermione said raising her eyebrow at him in challenge.

He laughed, "Says the girl who leads Project FUCK."

"It's F.U.C.K., actually" she corrected, blushing at the sexy grin he was giving her.

"Right, so what's your number then?" he asked swiping the screen of his phone with his finger, reader to tap in her number to his contacts.

"I haven't even told you my name" she said laughing.

"That's alright, I'll put you in here as 'FUCK girl.'" He teased.

Hermione laughed and gave him her number, and he fired off a text to her so that she would have his number too. She heard the chime of her phone, and when she clicked to open the message her mouth fell open in shock, when she saw the history of her texts with wrong number guy all showing up under the same number.

"It's you!" she said staring at him in shock, biting back a laugh.

"Excuse me?" his eyes narrowing at her in confusion.

"You were the one texting me the other night…You are wrong number guy!" Hermione said chuckling as she took another sip of her whiskey.

"Wait…that was you?" he asked, comprehension dawning as her words clicked into place and he scowled at her.

"If I recall, you called me nauseating." He said folding his arms over his chest, looking at her expectantly.

"Yes, well, you weren't exactly painting an enticing picture with your responses; I mean come on, Mister ' _men and women alike beg for my attention'_ " She sniffed taking another sip of her whiskey.

He raised an eyebrow at her and the corner of his lips curved up in a smirk.

"I bet you've never come during sex before." He said leaning back in his chair in amusement as he studied her, watching the flush creep down her neck.

"I fail to see how that is relevant to the conversation." She said hotly, giving him a glare.

"Oh, it's very relevant. If you want to understand what would make someone beg, then it stands to reason that you would need to experience what it's like being the focus of my attention." He said casually, as if he were commenting on the weather.

"Are you propositioning me?" she squeaked in surprise, and his smile grew wider.

"I could be," He smirked at her, flashing his canines, "if you promise to show me that thing you do with your tongue."

Hermione bit her lip, trying to hide the smirk. She never did things like this, it was such an un-Hermione Granger thing to do, but for once in her life, she decided to throw caution to the wind.

"My flat is not far from here…" she said finishing her whiskey and leaving money on the table to cover their drinks.

Before they even reached her flat, he was kissing her neck, making it extremely difficult for her to focus on unlocking her door. As soon as they slipped inside, he kicked the door closed with his boot and pushed her up against it, lifting her up until her legs wrapped around his waist. She moaned into his mouth as he kissed her hungrily, and she tangled her hands into his hair, pulling at it slightly. He held her against the door with his body, pulling her hands from his hair and pinning them above her head with one hand as his other hand reached down to hike up her skirt. His thumb brushed over the garter belt that rested against her outer thigh, as he rolled his hips into hers, smirking against her lips as she let out a soft moan. She could feel him hard and hot against her center, through the fabric of his jeans, and he hissed in pleasure as she ground herself against him. She nipped his bottom lip with her teeth and then soothed it with her tongue before he pulled back enough to ask in a husky voice which way the bedroom was.

When he relinquished his hold on her wrists to carry her through her flat to the bedroom, she wrapped her arms around his neck and proceeded to whisper in his ear all the naughty things she could do to him with her tongue. She stifled a laugh at his groan of need, and was kissing the sensitive spot just beneath his jaw when he finally made it to the bedroom and unceremoniously tossed her onto her queen size bed, which was thankfully free of teddy bears that day. She sat up and met his gaze as she slowly unbuttoned her shirt then removed her bra, watching as his eyes followed her every move like a snake stalking it's prey. She leaned back on the bed then, propped up on her elbows, with her knees bent, looking up at him invitingly, letting her knees fall open giving him a bird's eye view of her black lacy knickers.

She could see his pupils were blown wide with desire and she beckoned him to join her. His lips captured her mouth again as her hands began to work the buttons of his black silk dress shirt, letting his hand move to the juncture of her thighs. He smirked against her lips when she gasped in pleasure as his fingers nudged her panties aside and began to trace small circles over her clit. She pushed the shirt over his broad shoulders, and made a small sound of disappointment when he had to remove his hand in order to remove his shirt. He tossed his shirt onto a nearby chair, and he gave her a sexy grin as he removed her skirt. It was when he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her knickers and pulled them down over her hips that she knew she was in trouble. He slid them down her legs, tossing them over his shoulder onto the floor. Hermione bit her lip and let her head fall back into the pillow as he leaned in and ran his tongue along her slit. He groaned as he lapped at her, flicking his tongue against her clit in a steady rhythm that was bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

"Gods, don't stop, please…" she moaned, tangling her fingers in his hair, as he continued to lick and suck at her clit.

She came as soon as she felt his long fingers slide into her, curling slightly against that sensitive spot, and she cried out her release, shuddering beneath him. She watched with hooded eyes as he slid his fingers from her, and slipped them into his mouth, groaning in pleasure at her taste. She almost came a second time from the sight of it. She leaned towards him, and grasped his belt buckle, releasing it, and pulling his belt off with a sharp tug. He hissed as her fingernails raked over his cock through his jeans as she unbuttoned them, pushing them down impatiently. She pushed him down onto his back and she wasted no time taking him into her mouth, gazing up at him with lust filled eyes as she swirled the tip of her tongue over the head of his cock

"Fuck…that's the thing you do with your tongue." He laughed as it quickly turned into a groan.

He buried his fingers in her hair, as his eyes rolled back in pleasure, "Please tell me you're on the potion."

She pulled back a moment releasing him from her mouth, and she nodded, "Yes, why?"

"Because when I come, I want it to be inside of you." He said pushing her down on the bed, and settled himself between her thighs, kissing her hard as he plunged into her.

She cried out as he entered her, and she raked her nails over his back as he slammed into her over and over again

"God yes, …fuck me…" she murmured against his throat as he pounded into her relentlessly, fucking her so hard that her head board was hitting the wall.

She dipped a hand between them rubbing her clit as he continued to thrust into her, and she felt her orgasm building up with each stroke of his thick cock.

"Gods, please don't stop…Harder!" she cried

Within moments, she was gasping and shuddering beneath him, and he let out a growl, coming hard inside of her as her muscles contracted around him.

They both lay spent and panting, limbs entwined as he pulled the blanket over them

"You know, Project  _FUCK_  may have merit, after all." He said casually as he folded his arms behind his head, smirking at her.

She raised an eyebrow at him intrigued, "Oh?"

"Hermione Granger, knowing you fuck like that, I could be persuaded to end this war."

Her eyes widened, "I don't recall telling you my name…" she said with narrowed eyes as the rest of his words clicked to place in his brain… _End this war…Irreplaceable heirlooms stolen_ …

"Voldemort." She gasped in surprise kicking him out of her bed onto the floor.

"Jesus Christ, ouch! Just five minutes ago you were begging me to fuck you into the mattress, what happened to taking one for the team?" he said raising an eyebrow at her as he covered himself with the nearest thing he could find, which happened to be a fuzzy cat pillow.

She studied him, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous he looked sitting on her bedroom floor wearing nothing but the cat pillow he held in front of him. Fearsome indeed.

"If I agree to this, you'll call Harry right now and end the war?" she asked folding her arms over her chest.

"Do I have a choice?" he asked wrinkling his nose in disgust at the thought of calling Potter.

"Not if you want back in this bed…" she said raising an eyebrow at him.

He gave a long suffering sigh, "Fine, give me your phone."


	5. Merry Christmas, My Lord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing but this ridiculous plot.
> 
> AN: This was written for the 2016 Gutter City Tomione forum Christmas challenge – I hope you all enjoy! I chose 4 of the 12 possible challenge prompts for this story:
> 
> \- Underneath the Mistletoe.  
> \- Drunk at a Christmas Party.  
> \- Death Eater Christmas Party  
> \- Hermione *is* the Dark Lord's Christmas Gift.

"Hermione, you're being ridiculous, it's Christmas Eve, you can't spend it alone." Harry said through the door to her flat that she steadfastly refused to open.

"I told you, Harry, I'm not going." Hermione shouted through the door.

"Hermione, open the door. You're being stubborn!" Harry shouted back.

A moment later the door wrenched open practically ripping the chain off the door, "Stubborn?  _I'm being stubborn_?  _I'm_  not the one who refused to go to the S.P.E.W. charity dinner because they weren't serving those tiny wieners during the cocktail hour. _I'm_  not the one who ended a  _three year relationship_  over a Quidditch Jersey! Honestly, I'd rather have hot pokers jammed into my eye sockets rather than watch my pathetic excuse of an  _EX_ -boyfriend groping his new flavor of the month to sad Bing Crosby Christmas music. Thank you, but no!" Hermione screeched.

Harry sighed, "Look, Hermione, I know Ron made a mistake-"

Hermione cut him off before he could finish, "A Mistake? Harry, He  _fucked_  Lavender Brown at my Birthday party! Don't tell me you honestly believed him when he said he tripped and his dick just  _landed_  in her vagina."

"Well, It could've happened…" Harry said scratching his head trying to figure out the mechanics of such a fall.

Hermione just raised a single eyebrow at him.

"Harry, Just go. I'll be fine. Besides, I'm not alone, I have Crooks." Hermione said as she scooped her large half-kneazle into her arms and buried her face in his copious fur as he growled at her in annoyance.

Harry sighed, "Are you sure? I mean, I feel bad leaving you alone…" Harry said giving her a last pleading look.

"I'm fine, Harry, just go." She said in a clear dismissal as she backed into the warmth of her flat, giving him a sad smile before she closed the door.

When she heard his footsteps retreating down the hall, she let out the breath that she had been holding, and leaned back against the door, and slid down it, tucking her knees under her chin. She looked around her small flat, and her eyes fall on the small Christmas tree that was missing half the ornaments.

"Crooks, it looks like it's just you and me this year." Hermione sighed watching as the half-kneazle gave her a look of disdain before he crouched down and began hacking up a clump of partially chewed tinsel.

She stood back up and made her way over to her small kitchenette, grabbing a chocolate chip cookie from the tin that Molly had sent over with Ginny earlier in the week and yanked open her fridge. She pulled out the carton of Eggnog, and poured herself a glass, and then bit her lip as her eyes fell on the unopened bottle of brandy sitting on the counter. She had bought it on a whim, with the Eggnog, when she remembered that it was her Parents favorite thing to drink around the holidays. She choked back a sob at the memory of her parents; it was always hard to think of them since she had removed their memories, but it was especially hard this time of year. At least she had the knowledge that they were safe. She grabbed the bottle of brandy and opened it, pouring a generous amount into her Eggnog, and walked back into the living room with the tin of cookies, and plopped herself down on the couch in front of her tiny television. She didn't have cable, but she had a DVD player and a few DVD's at least. She popped in  _It's a Wonderful Life_ , and grabbed another cookie, washing it down with the Eggnog and brandy. She knew she'd regret all the calories she was consuming later, but right now, she couldn't bring herself to care.

An hour later, she had a pleasant floaty feeling in her head, and she glanced at the bottle of brandy, noticing it was significantly less full. Just then, her doorbell rang, and Hermione groaned.

"Harry, How many times do I have to tell you…" she was saying as she yanked open the door, only to come face to face with a sneering Peter Pettigrew. Her reflexes were much slower than usual, given the copious amount of liquor she had consumed, and before she could summon her wand, she was hit with a  _Petrificus Totalis_  in the chest. The last thing she saw before everything went black was Peter Pettigrew shuffling towards her with a burlap sack.

 

~~{0}~~

 

"Lucius!" The Dark Lord barked.

"My Lord?" Lucius answered bowing before the Dark Lord.

"Why are there  _Peacocks_  in the Ballroom?" Voldemort asked in a dangerous whisper.

Lucius swallowed thickly knowing too well what that tone meant, "It's  _cold_  outside, My Lord."

Voldemort blinked at the blond wizard in front of him.

"And so you thought it would be a good idea to have Peacocks roaming freely around  _my party_ , rather than using a simple warming charm?" Voldemort snapped, frowning at Lucius.

"But Narcissa-" Lucius began before Voldemort cut him off

"I know you weren't just about to blame this on your wife…everyone knows she hates those bloody birds more than I do." Voldemort said as he twirled his wand menacingly between his fingers.

"I'll just…" Lucius pointed over at the pretentious birds and began to slink away from Voldemort

"Fix it.  _Now_." Voldemort snapped his fingers pointing at the Peacocks that were currently crowding around the food table, and Lucius sprang into action, herding the Peacocks back outside.

 _Have to do everything my bloody self_ , Voldemort muttered as he made his way to the dais at the far end of the Ballroom.

As he sat in his chair, Nagini slithered over and curled around his feet. He looked down at her and smirked when he noticed she had a few white feathers sticking out from between her jaws.

"There's my good girl" Voldemort hissed in Parseltongue looking down fondly at the large snake.

The Death Eaters began to arrive in groups of two or three, wearing their finest dress robes and carrying large gifts. It had been Narcissa's idea to host a Christmas Party at the Manor, and although he wasn't usually one for celebrations, he had to admit that Narcissa had truly outdone herself. She had even commissioned large ice sculptures for the occasion that were strategically placed in all corners of the room; his favorite one though, was the one of Harry Potter impaled on a spike next to the punch bowl. The ceiling was also charmed to look like it was snowing.

The Death Eaters were approaching him now, to pay their respects, and place their Christmas gifts under the large decorated Christmas tree; all the gifts were for him,  _of course_ , but that was a minor detail.

The party was in full swing by the time he noticed he hadn't seen Wormtail skulking around. Just when he was about to command one of his minions to locate him, Wormtail appeared in the doorway, disheveled and sweating, dragging a rather large burlap bag fashioned with a large red bow, into the Ball Room.

Voldemort watched him curiously, raising a non-existent eyebrow as the portly wizard struggled with the sack.

"Wormtail! What is the meaning of this?" Voldemort snapped, causing the wizard to squeal like a pig and drop the burlap bag. There was a loud thud as the end he had been holding hit the floor.

"A gift for Nagini? How…thoughtful." Voldemort said eyeing Wormtail's disheveled appearance with distaste. All conversation seemed to cease as everyone's attention turned to the Dark Lord and his servant.

"The gift is for  _you_ , My Lord. Merry Christmas." Wormtail said as he dropped to his knees, trying to hide his proud smirk.

Voldemort scowled, looking at the dirty burlap sack in disgust. His eyes flicked from the pile of ornately wrapped packages under the tree back to the dirty sack, and he snorted in derision.

"You shouldn't have." He said sarcastically. If he had a nose, it would have wrinkled in disgust.

Not wanting to remain in suspense, he flicked his wand at the sack, and the bow fell away, and the sack opened to reveal a familiar looking petite girl with an afro, wearing torn sweatpants, a tee shirt with a picture of a cat on it, and striped mis-matched socks.

"It's a Mudblood." Voldemort said flatly as he stared down at the petrified form of Hermione Granger.

"Yes, My Lord, but not just any Mudblood… _Potter's_  Mudblood." Wormtail said proudly, wringing his hands together in excitement.

Voldemort's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and a sinister smile formed on his lips. Thoughts of everything he could do to her began to swirl in his mind; the possibilities were endless really, and then a throat cleared bringing him back to the present.

" _Ennervate_ " he said as he pointed his wand down at her.

Her eyes were still closed tightly, and her face was screwed up in pain as a groan left her lips. The sound made Voldemort smile. He couldn't wait for the moment when she realized where she was…

She rolled over and managed to get herself on her hands and knees, and she crawled towards him, stopping at his feet.

Just as he was about to speak, a loud retching sound and a splash echoed through the room.

Voldemort looked down in time to see Hermione Granger vomit all over his robes and expensive Italian leather shoes.

There was a collective gasp throughout the room, as every Death Eater stood motionless, awaiting his wrath; no one pukes on the Dark Lord and lives to tell the tale…

"I swear if you make the room stop spinning, I'll never drink again!" Hermione whimpered groaning in pain.

"Miss Granger…that was most  _unwise_ " Voldemort hissed down at her, pointing his wand at the pile of puke to vanish it.

She froze. She lifted her face slowly as her eyes fell on a pair of expensive looking leather shoes, to a tall form wearing rather nicely tailored black dress robes until she met the rather unimpressed crimson gaze of the Dark Lord.

"Oh Fuck." She blurted before she could stop herself.

" _Fuck_  is right. You, Miss Granger, are fucked. Totally, and completely  _fucked_." Voldemort said as he smirked at her.

Before she could say anything else, her hand flew to her mouth, and she puked again.

"Oh for fucks sake, Narcissa! Go clean her up and give her a sobering draught." The Dark Lord commanded.

The music from a string quartet started up once more, as Narcissa lead a very drunk Hermione out of the ballroom and through the halls of Malfoy Manor, having to shush her several times when she talked very loudly, slurring her words, and swaying on her feet.

"I didn't even wanna come to thish shtupid party. All I wanted was a nish quiet night at home with my Crooky, but  _Nooooooo_ …Shtupid Rat face had to go and  _kidnap_  me." Hermione ranted as Narcissa steered her down the hall gritting her teeth in annoyance.

When they reached a set of doors belonging to a guest room, she pushed Hermione into the Bathroom and tossed a towel at her.

"Clean yourself up. You  _will_  be presentable when you are in front of the Dark Lord." Narcissa spat.

Hermione snorted and reached down to pluck at her holy sweatpants, "His Royal Highness can kiss my sweatpant clad ass." Hermione said laughing as she flipped Narcissa the bird before the door was unceremoniously slammed in her face.

" _Bitch_." Hermione muttered as she peeled off her sweatpants, nearly falling over. What was she supposed to be doing again? Oh right, taking a shower. She turned and looked at the tap, turning it on and stepping beneath the warm spray of water. At the moment, she didn't care about where she was, the hot water felt glorious. There were some expensive looking bottles of shampoo and conditioner off the side, so Hermione picked up the shampoo and inhaled its scent. It even  _smelled_  expensive.

 _Don't mind if I do_ , she thought as she squirted a generous amount in her hands and began to lather her bushy hair. The warmth of the water paired with the soothing scent of the shampoo was making her sleepy. She eyed the large tub and curled up on her side as the water continued to spray over her.

 

~~{0}~~

 

There was a sharp rap on the door, and Narcissa pulled it open with wide eyes, as Voldemort stood on the other side looking down at her impatiently.

"My Lord?" she asked giving a small curtsy.

"Well? What's taking so long?" He barked, clearly annoyed.

"I…She's still in the shower." Narcissa said nervously, her eyes glancing towards the bathroom door.

"It's been  _thirty minutes_. What could she possibly be doing in there?" Voldemort snapped and then pushed past Narcissa,heading for the bathroom door.

"Clearly, if I want something done I'll have to do it myself." He muttered darkly

When he opened the door, he was hit with a wall of steam and the scent of shampoo.

"Get out of there at once!" He snapped in a tone that brooked no argument.

He was met with silence, and then he heard it; a soft snore.

" _Seriously?_  Are you sleeping?!" He pulled aside the shower curtain to find Hermione passed out in the tub, her hair still full of suds.

"You've  _got_  to be kidding me." He muttered as he bent towards her, pointing his wand at her once again.

" _Ennervate_ "

Her eyes suddenly snapped open to find Voldemort leaning over her, when she realized she was naked.

"Ahhh! Get out! I'm  _naked_!" she suddenly cried, grabbing ahold of the shower curtain in an effort to cover herself, yanking the rod out of the wall in the process. It hit Voldemort on its way to the floor, and he fell forward into the tub landing with his face between her legs.

Hermione froze.

This was bad. This was worse than the time she accidentally let out a tiny fart while making out with Viktor Krum. The Dark Lord's  _face_  was in her  _crotch_. Her  _naked_  crotch.

When his eyes snapped up to hers, she was so nervous, she burst out laughing uncontrollably at the absurdity of the situation, and she blurted out the first thing that popped into her head.

"Well, this is awkward."

Despite himself, he smirked. She looked ridiculous wrapped in a shower curtain, with her hair full of suds, but her laughter was infectious.

"If that's not the understatement of the year." He said as he pulled himself up, and out of the tub, and then reached a hand down to help her to her feet.

She blushed and grasped his hand, letting go of it quickly once she got to her feet, an awkward silence settling between them.

"You might want to rinse that." He said pointing to her hair.

She glanced upward and reached a hand into her hair and snorted when she realized she had never rinsed the shampoo out of her hair.

"Right. A little privacy?" She asked raising an eyebrow at him as she clutched the shower curtain tightly to her chest. She was starting to sober up a little now, and despite that she knew who was standing in front of her, the whole situation was so surreal that she just couldn't muster the energy to be afraid of him after his face had been in her crotch.

He glared at her, and then left the bathroom without a word, slamming the door behind him.

Hermione sniggered and rinsed her hair, then shut off the water. She wrapped the towel around herself that Narcissa had tossed at her earlier, and exited the bathroom to find Voldemort tapping his foot impatiently with his arms crossed over his chest.

He was obviously pissed.

"Miss Granger,  _you_  have thoroughly ruined my Christmas party." He snapped angrily, giving her a look that didn't bode well for her continued survival.

She snorted and rolled her eyes at his dramatics, "You want to talk about ruined parties? At least your girlfriend didn't trip and fall onto someone else's cock at your Birthday dinner." Hermione snapped bitterly.

His eyes widened, and he chuckled darkly, "My, my, do I detect trouble in paradise?"

Hermione laughed mirthlessly, "Funny, Ronald may have been many things, but  _Paradise_  was never one of them." She said sarcastically

_Now this was getting interesting…the Golden trio not so golden anymore?_

"So you don't associate with the blood traitor anymore then?" He asked tapping a long finger against his chin.

She shot him a glare at him for his use of the slur, but answered him anyway, "I'd rather shag a Mountain Troll."

An idea began to form in his mind, and a smirk formed on his lips.

"Are you hungry, Miss Granger?" he asked suddenly, and she gave him a confused look. Torture or death was what she had been expecting, not dinner. Before she could answer, her stomach growled loudly.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, "Planning to poison me, then?"

"Miss Granger, if I wanted you dead, we wouldn't be standing here having this conversation. Now, are you hungry, or not?" He asked impatiently.

"Um…I suppose?" She admitted sheepishly, still wary of his motives.

He pulled his wand on her suddenly, and she lifted her arms out in front of her in a pathetic attempt to shield herself, knowing it wouldn't do any good. The towel that had been wrapped around her was suddenly transformed into a short fitted black dress.

She cracked an eye open, looking down at herself in shock, running her hands along the expensive fabric.

"What is this?" she asked looking up at him in confusion.

"I'll not have you wearing a towel at my party. Last I checked, you're not a House Elf. I believe ' _Thank you'_  would be the appropriate response." He snapped impatiently.

"Thank you" she said quietly not wanting to push him further. He nodded, turning towards the door.

"It's Hermione…by the way." She called after him, and he stopped, looking back at her over his shoulder.

"Hermione, then. Follow me." He said as he swept out of the guest room leading her back towards the ballroom.

Her eyes darted around the ballroom nervously as she stepped in behind Voldemort. On the one hand, she knew logically, he was the one person she should be most concerned about, but at the moment, he seemed more intent on feeding her than killing her for reasons unknown. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, she kept her eyes to the floor and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. She hadn't realized he had stopped walking until she walked straight into his back. She took a step back, looking up in confusion, and her eyes widened. There, hovering over his head was a sprig of mistletoe.

"Lucius!" The dark Lord barked, and the blond death eater scrambled quickly over to his side, shooting a not so subtle glare in Hermione's direction.

"My Lord?" Lucius said eyeing the mistletoe and swallowing nervously.

"What  _the fuck_  is this?" Voldemort pointed at the offending sprig.

"Mistletoe, My Lord." Lucius answered, his voice cracking in fear.

Voldemort grabbed him by the front of his robes, pulling his face close to his, "I can see that.  _What_  is it doing here?" He asked dangerously.

"The House Elves thought it would be…festive." Lucius answered, whimpering slightly as Voldemort released him.

Hermione looked closely at the mistletoe and snickered. Both wizards narrowed their gaze at her expectantly.

" _Viscum cruciatum_. That's um…that's unfortunate." She answered, and then bit her lip trying to bite back a smirk.

Voldemort pulled his wand and pointed it at the offending plant, casting every curse he could think of to destroy it, but it remained hovering over his head despite his efforts. He tried to take a step away from it, but found he was unable to move.

"It's no use." Hermione sighed crossing her arms over her chest, "That particular variety of mistletoe is practically indestructible. The only way to be rid of it is to wait for someone to kiss you."

Lucius swallowed thickly, trying to muster up the nerve to take one for the team, when he took a deep breath and puckered his lips, moving towards the Dark Lord.

Voldemort's eyes widened when he realized what Lucius was about to do, "Don't even  _think_  about it." He snapped pushing Lucius' face away with his hand.

His eyes then fell on Hermione, and she looked behind her, sure he was looking at someone else. When she saw no one was behind her, she snorted, "You can't be serious."

"I'm not kissing Lucius." He deadpanned.

"What about Bellatrix? I'm sure she'd be more than happy to Volunteer." Hermione said crossing her arms over her chest raising an eyebrow at him.

He gave her a look of distaste, "Have you seen that woman's teeth?"

Hermione shuddered. She _had_  noticed Bellatrix's unfortunate dental hygiene. Being the daughter of dentists, she tended to notice such things.

"Point taken. What about Narcissa then?" Hermione supplied helpfully.

"I'm standing  _right here_ , you know." Lucius snapped apparently drawing the line at offering his wife to the Dark Lord.

"Are you a Gryffindor, or not, Miss Granger?" Voldemort said baiting her, knowing she would rise to the challenge.

"Just what are you trying to imply?" She retorted hotly.

"That you haven't got the backbone to Mmmhhmmm.." He began before he was silenced as her lips crashed into his. He wasn't sure who deepened the kiss, but when he felt her tongue slide against his, he groaned feeling the long dormant stirring of lust. His hands tangled in her wild curls as he pulled her flush against him, feeling her soft curves mold to his body. Her hands came up to wrap around his neck, and one of his hands lid down her spine, coming to rest on her bottom. Somewhere nearby a throat cleared, and he regained his senses and pulled away from her. She was panting slightly, and her pupils were blown wide.  _Interesting_.

"It's gone, My Lord." Lucius said nervously.

"Lucius?" Voldemort said impatiently

"Yes My Lord?"

"Get out of my sight."

"Of course My Lord, right away, My Lord." Lucius said giving another quick bow as he walked away as quickly as he could.

As soon as the blond Wizard had scurried away, and everyone's attention had turned back to what they had been doing, his gaze fell on her once more.

"Now, what shall I do with you?" He said giving her a shark-like grin.

Her eyes widened at the implication, and she shifted her gaze nervously to the food table, "Oh look! tiny wieners! I love these." She said trying to deflect, shoving three of them in her mouth at once.

Undeterred, he swept up closely behind her, letting her feel the evidence of his arousal as his hand fell to her waist; he leaned in close and whispered in her ear:

"I assure you, Miss Granger, my wiener is anything but  _tiny_."

She choked, sending bits of chewed cocktail wieners into the crowd as she felt his rather impressive erection against her backside.

"I don't suppose that's your wand in your pocket…?" Hermione said swallowing nervously as he spun her around to face him.

"Lets go somewhere a bit more…private." He said and before she could blink, he disapparated with her.

When she felt her feet touch the floor, she could tell she was still somewhere in Malfoy Manor if the gaudy décor was anything to go by.

"Would you like a drink?"

She scoffed, "I think I've already had enough for one evening, thanks."

"Suit yourself." He said as he turned to pour himself a glass of fire whiskey. Her eyes widened when they fell on the obvious tent in his robes, and couldn't help herself when she blurted out

"You want to have  _sex_ with me?" she squeaked fully grasping the situation she now found herself in.

He scowled, "Would you rather I cursed you?"

"No! This is just…not how I planned to spend Christmas Eve." Hermione answered honestly, reconsidering his offer of alcohol.

"Neither was I, but, I suppose I have Wormtail to thank for that." Voldemort chuckled darkly, "You  _were_  my Christmas present, after all."

"You know what the sad part of all this is?" Hermione snorted stepping up to him and grabbing the glass of fire whiskey from is hands and taking a large sip.

"No, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me anyway." He said as he studied her, his eyes glittering with lust.

"This isn't actually the  _worst_  date I've ever had." She admitted and set the glass down before she pulled him down into another kiss. He wasted no time in steering her over to the couch, pulling her onto his lap as his hands slid up under the short dress she wore. She moaned when she felt him roll his hips into her, feeling how decidedly  _not tiny_  he was. It didn't take long for him to vanish their clothes, and bury himself inside of her. She rode him like a woman possessed, feeling her orgasm start to crash over her when his long slender fingers found her clit. She came hard around him, shuddering in his lap as he climaxed shortly after.

She panted against his neck, still clutching his shoulders, when she smirked up at him, "If anyone asks, I tripped and fell on your cock."

He gave her a naughty chuckle, "When is Weasley's Birthday again?"

She smacked him playfully on the chest, and then kissed him again, "Merry Christmas,  _My Lord_."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just something smutty for Valentine's day. ENJOY! This is also my apology for being MIA for the last month…I've been SUPER sick…and by sick I mean stomach bug into horrible cold turned sinus infection turned double ear infection turned full blown Pneumonia. Anyway, the Antibiotics are working their magic, and I can finally breath without a death rattle, and I have some time to actually write! Keep your eyes peeled, I am working on updates for all all of my WIP fics xoxo

Hermione was thinking about how much she hated potions class as she swiped her arm over her face to remove the sweat that was already beading on her forehead. She was certain that her hair was a frizzy mess due to the steam that was wafting off of the cauldron as she bent over it to check the potion's progress. The only thing she despised _more_ than potions class (Divination not withstanding) was group projects; which unfortunately, was where she found herself in this very moment. To make matters worse, she had been paired with the two people in the school that she liked the _least_ ; Tom Riddle and his blond lackey, Abraxas Malfoy. Having spent many years suffering abuse at the hands of Abraxas' equally blond grandson, Draco, in her natural time, Hermione wasn't surprised to find that the apple indeed did not fall far from the tree. Tom Riddle, though, was _far_ worse. Despite knowing that Tom was destined to become Lord Voldemort later in his life, Hermione couldn't help but notice how devastatingly attractive Tom was in his youth, and thought to herself, ' _what a waste'_.

"Granger, your cutting that Belberry root all wrong." Tom said in his haughty tone as he slid the cutting board out of her workspace and into his own.

She gritted her teeth, doing her best to hold back the sarcastic remark that was on the tip of her tongue, knowing it would only make things worse should she utter it. She crossed her arms over her chest petulantly waiting for him to finish the task that _she_ had been assigned, when her eyes flicked up to see Abraxas' hand hovering over the cauldron.

It was like watching a train about to derail in slow motion, only there was absolutely no way to stop it.

"Abraxas! NO!" she shouted reaching out a hand to stop the extra moonflower petal from falling into the viscous liquid, watching in horror as the petal slipped through her fingers and disappeared into the brew.

The resulting explosion would be written about in _Hogwarts: A History_ , being considered one of the worst potions accidents to happen at the school, at least until Neville Longbottom would arrive in 1991.

Looking back, she wondered why it hadn't even occurred to her to use her magic to shield herself; she had instead acted purely on instinct, throwing her body in front of Tom's and covering her face with her arms.

The viscous pink liquid splattered all over their workstation and onto the floor, though Abraxas managed to avoid getting hit by using his quick reflexes to hide under the potion's bench. She and Tom however, weren't so lucky. Though she attempted to shield him from the worst of it, she noticed a pink blob had landed on Tom's left cheek; if the muscle periodically twitching in his jaw was any indication, he was _livid_.

"Abraxas." He said in a deceptively calm voice.

The aforementioned blond crawled back out from beneath the bench when he heard his name, his eyes downcast, the only outward sign that he knew that he was indeed in _deep shit_.

"So sorry, Tom, I must've mis-counted the petals" he stammered nervously, his eyes darting up to Tom's unimpressed face quickly then back to the floor.

Hermione seethed as she stood there, literally covered from head to toe in pink slime. Neither one of them so much as glanced in her direction or bothered to ask if _she_ was alright. Not that she had expected anything less, mind. Still, after taking the brunt of it in an effort to shield _his highness_ , she would have thought it was at least worth a ' _thank you'_ , or even a barely noticeable nod of the head if he couldn't manage to choke out the words to someone of her…background.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking." She groused as she pulled her goo-covered robe off leaving her clad in only her oxford school shirt, tie, and plaid skirt. With a quick _scourgify_ , the goo was removed from her hands, face, and hair, and she turned to Tom lifting an eyebrow as she pointed her wand at him.

His eyes darted to her light vine wood wand, and back to her face, before they narrowed, not deigning to answer.

Hermione scoffed at his attitude and pocketed her wand, "Suit yourself." She mumbled as she turned away from him.

"Dear Merlin!, what's happened here?" Slughorn came bustling up to their bench looking back and forth between the three of them and to the pink gooey mess all over the table.

"Malfoy added too many petals" Hermione quickly said, not wanting either of them to take the opportunity to blame it on the mudblood.

She saw Abraxas' eyes narrow at her pronouncement, and raised her eyebrow at him in challenge. If they thought she could be easily intimidated, they had another thing coming. There was one thing Hermione Granger would never allow anyone to mess with; _her grades_.

"Yes, well, a mistake easily made, I'm sure. Mister Malfoy, why don't you help me get this mess sorted out while Mister Riddle and Miss Granger report to the hospital wing to make sure there is no lasting damage."

"Sir, honestly, I feel fine-" she began before Tom interjected smoothly.

"Of course, we will report straight to the hospital wing as instructed, Professor."

Professor Slughorn clapped Tom on the back, "That's the spirit, my boy, you can never be too careful, I always say!"

Hermione turned a glare at Tom, and dutifully followed him out of the class room as he made a show of opening the door for her to pass through ahead of him. Halfway down the hall, she suddenly found herself being unceremoniously shoved into an empty classroom. Luckily for her, she had anticipated him doing something like this, and already had her wand at the ready in her hand.

She spun around quickly to face him, her wand pointing at his chest, as she heard the door slam shut and wards sliding into place with a lazy flick of his hand. He looked down his perfectly straight nose at her, clearly not even remotely threatened by her display.

"Tsk, tsk…did you honestly think I would let you get away with that little stunt?" he tutted as he took a step towards her, batting her wand out of the way with his hand.

"By ' _stunt_ ' are you referring to my attempt to stop Abraxas from screwing up our potion, or my attempt to shield _you_ from the damage?" she snorted taking a step back until the backs of her legs came in contact with a desk.

"Don't be coy, Miss Granger, I think we both know _exactly_ what I'm talking about." He said as he mirrored her movement, trapping her body with his against the desk.

At this close proximity, she caught the light scent of his aftershave as he hovered over her, as well as the warmth radiating from his body that was just a little too close, and suddenly she couldn't catch her breath; she leaned towards him just slightly trying to inhale just a _little bit more_ as her eyes fluttered shut, and her pulse began to race.

"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific" she answered, her voice suddenly much huskier than it had been a moment ago. His brows furrowed in confusion as he noticed how flushed her cheeks had become, and had she just been _sniffing_ him? When her eyes flicked up to his, her pupils were dilated.

"Miss Granger…"he began questioningly, wondering if maybe she _did_ need to go to the hospital wing after all.

"it's _Hermione_ …" she whispered breathily as she leaned in towards the crook of his neck to sniff him again.

"Er…Hermione then-" he said suddenly quite entranced with the way her fingers were now sliding up the front of his blazer.

"Yes, Tom?" she said huskily as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth.

She was looking at him predatorily now, as if he were a juicy steak. His Adam's Apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed thickly, not having anticipated this sort of reaction from _her_ , of all people.

"Perhaps I should escort you to the hospital wing after all." He suggested, wondering why he was still standing there allowing her to touch him in such a way.

"Or perhaps you could escort me somewhere a bit more _private._ " She smirked as one of her hands slid up into his hair at the nape of his neck.

He sucked in a breath and felt his cock twitch as her fingers tugged at his hair. Was she was seriously suggesting that he…

"I've often wondered if all you needed was a good fuck, Tom." She breathed against his ear.

_Oh God, she was…_

"I'm not sure that's-" he began before she pressed her finger to his lips

"Shhh…Stop talking" she whispered again, and she pulled his head down to hers, brushing her lips lightly over his.

He was at war with himself as her small pink tongue darted out and traced his bottom lip. He hated this girl with a fiery passion; she was the embodiment of everything he sought to destroy, yet the feel of her fingers gently massaging his scalp, and her teeth nipping at his bottom lip was driving him mad. He snatched out his hand suddenly, grabbing a fistful of her wild curls, and wrenched her head back roughly hoping to resume control of the situation once more. When she actually _moaned_ like the whore of Babylon, he felt all of his blood rushing south.

"Gods, yes Tom!" she breathed curling her fingers under the lapels of his blazer.

That was _definitely not_ the reaction he had been going for…

Before he knew what he was doing, he hoisted her up onto the desk behind her, pushing her legs apart so he could stand between them. He threaded his fingers into her hair again, since she seemed to enjoy that, and he captured her lips with his, sweeping his tongue into her mouth as she invited him in. Any remaining capability he had for rational thought vanished a moment later when her hand brushed the front of his trousers to palm his painfully hard cock.

"Fuck…" he swore as her lips broke away from his to leave a trail of kisses over his jaw and down his throat.

"Precisely what I had in mind" she chuckled in a way that sounded _dirty_ as she grabbed his hand that wasn't buried in her hair and guided it down between her legs to her very damp knickers.

Merlin, he shouldn't be doing this…this was _Granger_. Not only was she a _mudblood_ , but it was obvious that she must be experiencing some sort of side effect from her exposure to their botched potion, and though he may be many things, a rapist wasn't one of them. With a tremendous amount self-control, he managed to take a step back from her, forcing his eyes up to hers, and cast a wandless _Petrificus totalis_. She immediately froze, her brown eyes wide with surprise and confusion.

"I'm taking you to the hospital wing, Granger. As amusing as this was, I won't have you accusing me of rape come morning." He said as casually as he could manage, and using a _Levicorpus_ charm to levitate her to the hospital wing.

 

**oOo0oOo**

 

Try as he might, he couldn't get the image of her sitting on that desk with her legs parted, looking up at him with her wide brown eyes and those kiss swollen lips, out of his mind. He knew, realistically, it was only the potion that had made her behave in such a way, but _gods_ what he would have given to take her right then on top of that desk, feeling how hot and wet she was.

 _Would she have screamed my name?_ He thought, the idea of _that_ was making his cock hard all over again. He hadn't been used to, or expecting how _aggressive_ she had been; most of the girls he had been with previously would mostly just lay there, and let him do whatever he wanted, but not her, oh no…she was a force to be reckoned with. He idly wondered if that too was part of the potion's effect, or if that was just her… _Hermione_.

He caught her eye as she entered the Great Hall, and allowed himself a small smirk when he noticed the way she blushed and pressed her lips together in a grim line, quickly avoiding his gaze. She should be grateful really, he was certain that someone like Abraxas, or certainly Avery, wouldn't have had the self-control to stop, not when she was groping them like a Grindylow, mudblood or no. He stood then, shouldering his bag, and glancing at her one last time before striding from the great hall; he decided in that moment that he _would_ have Hermione Granger, but she would come to him.

 

**oOo0oOo**

 

He pretended to ignore her as she dropped down heavily into the seat opposite him at his table in the library, sighing dramatically. When he didn't acknowledge her presence, and continued to write on the parchment in front of him, she dropped a heavy book on the table between them.

"Can I help you with something?" he snapped, not bothering to even glance in her direction.

"As a matter of fact, _yes_. I do believe that this was supposed to be a _group_ assignment." She said evenly crossing her arms over her chest expectantly.

"What's the matter, Granger, you don't trust me?" Tom replied, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at her.

She snorted.

Tom scowled, "You know, most students would be grateful and just take the 'O'" he snapped as he narrowed his eyes at her

"Well, I think you'll find that I'm not like most students, Tom. I _earn_ my grades. In fact, most of the boys _I've_ known would let _me_ do all the work and happily take the credit." She said in challenge resting her chin on her palm as she looked at him expectantly.

In that moment, he was reminded just how _not_ like other girls she was, and he stared at her for longer than necessary until she began to squirm uncomfortably in her seat. _Good_.

"And I think you're aware, Hermione, that I'm not like other _men_." He said with a smirk as he watched the skin of her neck flush. Just as his eyes dropped back to the parchment, he heard her ask hesitantly, "Why _did_ you stop?"

His quill stopped moving and he slowly raised his eyes back to hers.

"Do you want the proper answer, or the real one?" He asked her, gazing at her intently.

She swallowed nervously, and brushed the feather of her quill over her bottom lip appearing to think it over for a moment before she answered.

"Both." She said quietly.

He set his quill down and looked around to make sure they were alone before he spoke.

"Because you were obviously experiencing side effects from the potion and it was my duty to see that you received proper care. Also, because I'm not a rapist." He said evenly.

She nodded, his answer not having been the one she was expecting. She had expected him to say that he had stopped because she was a _filthy_ _mudblood,_ and that he had come to his senses before it was too late.

He watched her closely as she bit her lip seeming to debate with herself over something.

"Is there something else you wish to say?" he said pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"It wasn't a lust potion." She mumbled quietly.

"What?" He said leaning forwards slightly.

She took a deep breath, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment as she admitted a little louder, "It wasn't a lust potion."

His eyes widened in surprise and he blinked at her.

"After a vial of pepper-up potion and a cold shower, I went to the library to research how the addition of the extra moonflower petal would affect the potion. It turns out that Moonflower petals are mostly inert, therefore they wouldn't have changed the properties of the potion, only making it more volatile, hence the resulting explosion."

"So what your saying is-"

"That we were doused with the draught of Peace. Anything that resulted thereafter was not an effect of the potion." She admitted as a blush rose to her cheeks.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked suddenly, wondering why she would confess such information.

"Because I wanted you to know." she said thoughtfully as she stood from her chair, pulling her bag onto her shoulder and taking a step away before she turned back to look at him over her shoulder, "And because I like the way you smell." she said with a barely suppressed grin, as she noticed the corner of his lips curve up into a smirk.

 

**oOo0oOo**

 

"It's past curfew, you know." He said as his eyes flicked over her form.

She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth to keep the smirk from forming on her lips as she nodded her acknowledgment. She was leaning casually against the wall of the seventh floor corridor, with one leg propped up and her arms crossed over her chest as if she'd been waiting for someone.

"Why aren't you in bed, Miss Granger?" he asked arching an eyebrow up at her curiously.

"Why indeed?" she chuckled seemingly to herself and pushed off the wall taking a step towards him, "Maybe I was waiting for someone."

His eyebrows rose marginally at her blatant disregard for the school rules, "Oh? Please do enlighten me then, _Miss Granger_ , on which other house I shall be taking points from this evening."

She smirked and took another step towards him, knowing he would stand his ground. He watched her with snake-like precision as her hand reached towards him and she curled one of her fingers under his green and silver tie.

"Slytherin." she answered taking another step towards him until she could feel the hard planes of his chest against hers.

Her breath hitched as his lips hovered over hers, stopping just before they made contact, to whisper, "If this isn't what you want, say so now."

Rather than answer, her lips brushed over his, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth before releasing it with a quiet 'pop'. He let out a soft groan and moved in swiftly, kissing her hungrily and threading his fingers through her wild curls.

A door appeared in the wall behind her, and her hand fumbled with the handle until it opened and she pulled him inside with her, closing it behind her with a soft click. As his lips broke away from hers to look around, he stifled a laugh when he saw that they were once again in the same classroom they had been in after the potion's accident.

At his unasked question, her lips curved into a smirk as she hopped up onto the desk in front of him, letting her legs fall open invitingly.

His fingers grasped her hips as he stepped between her thighs, brushing his lips teasingly against hers and then backing off a bit, wanting to see what she would do. He chuckled when she made a small sound of frustration in the back of her throat, until she finally pulled his head down to hers in a demanding kiss.

She wasn't shy, not that he was expecting her to be; she was a Gryffindor, after all. Her tongue slid against his expertly, and he groaned when he felt her legs come up to wrap around his waist and her hands sliding over his chest, steadily moving south…

"I want you, Tom, right here on top of this desk." She whispered breathily in his ear as she peppered kisses over his jaw

_Oh God…_

He was painfully hard now, his fingers gripping her hips tightly, as she rocked against him insistently with a soft moan. Normally, when he found himself in this situation, which, admittedly wasn't often, he preferred to fuck from behind, not particularly interested in sharing intimacy with someone he was only planning to use for self-gratification; with Hermione, though, he wants to see the look in her eyes when she comes apart.

His hand slipped down between them, and he trailed a finger along the edge of her already damp knickers. Her moan of encouragement was all he needed to hear as his fingers delved underneath, stroking her swollen clit, before sliding into her as deep as they would go.

He groaned when he felt her muscles clench around his fingers, imagining how it would feel around his throbbing cock.

"More" she cried out as she bit her lip and looked up at him with a lusty gaze.

Her fingers were already making quick work of his belt, and pulling it off with a sharp tug.

Even in his lust-fogged state, he remembered to ask a very important question, "Are you on the potion?"

Her fingers stilled on the button of his pants, "I'm on the Pill."

His eyebrows drew together in confusion. The potion was what all witches took to prevent any unwanted pregnancies, _so what was this pill?_

Sensing his confusion but not wanting to get into a lengthy discussion about futuristic muggle birth control methods, she bit back a smirk, "It's as good as, trust me."

Further questioning was forgotten as her nails raked over the front of his trousers. With a flick of his wrist, her knickers disappeared and she was spread before him with her plaid school skirt hiked up around her waist looking up at him with "fuck me" eyes.

"I'm not going to be gentle." He warned her as she pushed his pants down and freed his swollen cock.

"I don't want you to be." She breathed and leaned back on her elbows, scooting forward a bit to give him better access. He lined himself up with her entrance and held her gaze as he thrust into her hard, causing her to cry out and throw her head back in either pleasure or pain…he couldn't sure which.

"Fuck yes, Tom!"

So it was pleasure then.

He pounded into her, the way he had imagined himself doing so many times since the day of the potion's accident. Her little mewling cries and he way she periodically gazed up at him like _prey_ fueled him on. He could tell that she was close when he felt her muscles squeezing him tighter, and so he began to circle her clit with his thumb as he brought her crashing over the edge. Watching Hermione come was glorious; her head was thrown back in pleasure and the sound that erupted from her could only be described as a _shriek_ , with a few cuss words sprinkled in that were almost unintelligible. As her muscles contracted around his cock, he couldn't hold back his own release. He came inside her like the Hogwarts Express, filling her with his seed.

"Fuck…Hermione…Unghhhh."

Not the sexiest thing he could've uttered in that moment, to be sure, but it's not as if it could be helped; not while she was still spread before him like an all-you-eat buffet, looking like a naughty school girl who'd just been throroughly fucked _by him_.

He pulled out of her with a shudder, instantly feeling an inexplicable sense of _loss_ , and cast a wandless _Scourgify_ to clean them both up. He pulled his pants back up and watched her in amusement as she attempted to push her skirt back down and scoot off the desk to stand. He smirked when her knees wobbled and he caught her around the waist, pulling her against his chest.

"That was…" she began, trying to find the right words.

"Amazing? I know." He said with a smug smile.

"…Not what I would have expected from you." She finished, chuckling as she watched his smile turn into a scowl.

"I mean that in a _good_ way." She clarified, her lips curving up into a smirk as she felt his posture relax slightly.

"What were you expecting then?" he asked raising an eyebrow at her curiously.

She looked thoughtful for a moment, "I didn't take you for the considerate type" she answered honestly, "I wasn't expecting that you would make me come like that."

It was his turn to smirk, "Well, Hermione, as I'm sure you know by know, I strive for _perfection_."

She threaded her fingers into his hair again and pulled him down for another kiss, feeling her stomach flutter at the way he nipped playfully at her lips. She was in dangerous territory, she knew, falling for the young Dark Lord was not something she had endeavored to do in her travels to the past, yet here she was, fucking up the timeline.

"Well, you succeeded." she answered, allowing him to capture her lips once more, future be damned.


	7. The Secret Admirer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the 2018 Valentine's Lemonade Smut fest - Enjoy!

Hermione was in a foul mood as she took her seat in the great hall beside Harry; it’s not that she _hated_ Valentine’s day…okay, yes she did. She hated the way the majority of the female population seemed to lose all sense of self-respect in order to gain the attention of the opposite sex, fawning over boys who most of the time wouldn’t give them the time of day. It’s was pathetic, really.

“Have you asked anyone to-“ Harry began to ask.

“No.” Hermione snapped, effectively ending the conversation.

Harry held up his hands in defeat and turned back to his breakfast, thankfully dropping the subject.

She knew he meant well, but honestly, she had no interest in finding a date for the stupid Valentine’s party that the prefects decided to throw in order to improve inter-house relations. She could be perfectly polite to members of the other houses without the forced awkwardness of a being someone’s _date_. She shivered as the memory of attending one of Slughorn’s party’s with Cormac McLaggen popped into her head.

Her thoughts were interrupted a moment later as the owls swooped into the hall to deliver the mail. Hermione cringed as the incessant giggling rose to a headache inducing level, as Valentine cards and gifts were delivered. To her surprise, a tawny owl landed in front of her, dropping a small scroll on her plate. She wrinkled her nose as she picked up the scroll, making sure to do a few scanning spells to make sure it wasn’t cursed, and opened it.

It was blank.

“Hominem Revlio” she whispered as she tapped her wand on it, but to her dismay, it remained blank.

“What’s that?” Harry asked curiously as he leaned in to get a closer look.

“I don’t know, just a bit of blank parchment.” She said with a shrug, setting it down beside her plate.

“Weird. Why would someone send you blank parchment?” he asked curiously.

“I have no idea. It’s probably Malfoy’s idea of a joke.” Hermione said bitterly, and she glanced over towards the Slytherin table. She furrowed her brows when she saw that Malfoy seemed engrossed in conversation with Astoria Greengrass. Surely if he had sent it as a joke, he would have been watching for her reaction? Her eyes continued along the table, and she sucked in a breath when they met the dark gaze of the Head boy, Tom Riddle, before he quickly looked away.

Tom Riddle was as beautiful as he was cruel; he had dark hair and eyes, perfect cheekbones, full lips, and a jawline for days. She had learned quickly though, after he had transferred from Durmstrang in their fourth year, that behind that pretty face lurked a cold-hearted _snake_. She took pity on the witches who seemed to fall for his charms only to be cast aside like yesterday’s prophet, or outright ignored as they made their interest known. Unfortunately being Head Girl meant that she had to share a dormitory with him.

Realizing she was going to be late, she quickly shoved the blank parchment into her bag, and finished her tea before heading off to her first class of the day.

 

**ooOo0oOoo**

 

Finally having a free period, Hermione headed straight for her usual table in the back of the library so that she could get a head start on her Arithmancy paper. Thankfully, the library was quiet, and she began pulling her things out of her bag when the small scroll she received that morning fell out on to the table in front of her. As she unrolled it, her eyes widened as they scanned the neat penmanship and read the words written in black ink:

 _Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?_  
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:  
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,  
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:  
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,  
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;  
And every fair from fair sometime declines,  
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;  
But thy eternal summer shall not fade  
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;  
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,  
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:  
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,  
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee  (1)

Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18.

She looked around quickly, noting that the library was nearly empty. Falling back on her first instinct, she crumpled the parchment in her fist, certain that it had been part of a cruel prank, and was about to toss it in the waste bin when she thought better of it, and opened it again.

The more she thought about it, the more peculiar it seemed; Shakespeare was a _muggle_ poet, and certainly not one she would expect a pureblood playing a joke on her would know of. She flat out refused however, to believe this could be anything other than a prank. She sighed, shoving the parchment back into her bag, and got to work on her Arithmancy paper.

An hour later, after finishing up her assignment, she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth as she pulled out the piece of parchment once more. She furrowed her brows when she saw that it was once again completely blank, as if the Sonnet had never been there at all.

She picked up her quill and dipped it in her inkpot before lowering it to the page

**_Hello?_ **

Before her eyes, the word seemed to melt into the parchment, and she flipped it over to see that the ink hadn’t bled through.

**_Hello Hermione._ **

She dropped the quill quickly as if it had burnt her, and she looked around quickly to see if anyone was watching her. Just as before, the library remained deserted.

 ** _Who is this?_** , she wrote quickly, realizing that there must be some sort of communication enchantment on the parchment. Whoever it was writing to her, had definitely intended it for her.

**_Someone you know, but that’s all I’ll say for now._ **

Hermione frowned. That could be literally anyone at Hogwarts.

 ** _Why are you writing to me?_** She wrote, in frustration, wanting to know if this was indeed some sort of a joke

**_Because I can’t stop thinking about how your lips would feel against mine; how your legs would feel wrapped around my waist…_ **

Her mouth dropped open as she blushed to the roots of her hair. _Had someone really just written that?_ Despite her skepticism, her curiosity was piqued. She tried to mentally make a list of all the muggleborn students in the school, thinking about who this mysterious stranger could possibly be.

Before she could formulate a response, the words disappeared to be replaced with new ones

**_The way you feather the tip of your quill across your lips when you’re deep in thought, drives me crazy._ **

She quickly pulled her quill away from her mouth when she realized she had just been doing that exact thing.

**_Can you see me right now?_ **

She glanced around again, but saw no sign of anyone watching her.

**_No, though I watch you often enough to know your habits._ **

So she had a stalker, then. Brilliant. Feeling rather paranoid, she quickly packed up her things and made her way back to the Great Hall for lunch. At least there, she had Harry and Ron watching her back.

 

**ooOo0oOoo**

 

“Hermione, I was just telling Ron about the parchment.” Harry said as she slipped into the seat across from him, next to Ron.

“It’s um…it’s not blank.” She said looking equally perplexed and mortified when she thought of the things it had revealed to her.

“No? What’d it say? Who was it from?” Harry asked before taking a bite of his lunch.

“Oh…uh…it’s not really important, but I think I have a stalker.” Hermione admitted before picking up a cucumber sandwich and taking a bite.

Ron’s eyebrows raised at this.

“ _You_?”

Hermione turned to glare at him, annoyed that he was implying that no one could ever be that interested in her “Yes, Ronald, _Me_. Someone is stalking me. Did I stutter?”

“Well, I just meant –“

“I _know_ what you meant. Who could ever think of _Hermione_ like that? Well guess what? Someone does.” She snapped before she grabbed her bag and stormed from the hall back towards the Head’s dorm. Thankfully, she had her own room, and she could have a good cry in private.

She burst through the door to the common room and stopped in her tracks when she saw Tom sitting on the couch reading.

“Granger?”

“Leave off, Riddle” she snapped, rushing past him into the safety of her bedroom. She sat heavily on her bed and took a deep breath. Honestly, Ron had been an arse to her for years, which is why she was angry with herself for letting his words affect her so easily. It brought her right back to that moment in first year when she overheard him saying to Harry, ‘ _It’s no wonder she hasn’t got any friends’_

She swiped the tear from her cheek angrily as she stood up and decided that what she really needed was a long hot soak in the bath to calm down. She cast a quick tempus charm to make sure she had plenty of time before she was expected to make an appearance at the Valentine’s party, and grabbed a fluffy towel, and her shampoo, shrinking them down so they would fit neatly in the pocket of her school robe.

She swept out of the head’s dorm relieved that Riddle was no longer there, and made her way quickly to the fifth floor.

She pushed open the heavy wooden door, and walked inside, admiring the beauty of the cavernous room; before she knew about magic, she never could have imagined a bath like this. The late afternoon sun was filtering in through the stained glass window, bathing the room in a rainbow of color. Remember why she was here, she made her way quickly back to the door and warded it, ensuring that she wouldn’t be disturbed.

She was somewhat surprised to see that the bath was already filled with steaming water and luxurious bubbles, but she supposed that like the staircases, the bath must’ve known she was coming, and prepared itself especially for her.

She slipped off her outer school robe, hanging it on a hook, and kicked off her shoes as her fingers loosened her Gryffindor tie, and then made their way to the buttons of her school blouse. She slipped the fabric over her shoulders, and then reached back to unclasp her bra with a small sigh of contentment. Her nipples pebbled as soon as they were exposed to the cool air, and she shivered. She let her skirt fall to the floor, followed quickly by her knickers, as she stepped toward the bath.

She stepped her foot into the water, and practically purred at the feeling of warmth against her toes, moving steadily deeper until she was able to sink down into the scented water. She submerged herself completely before settling herself on a tiled seat on the far side of the bath, and allowed her eyes to drift closed as she breathed in the calming scent of the water.

Her eyes snapped open a moment later when she heard the unmistakable sound of a _splash_.

“Well, this is awkward…” Tom chuckled as he sat on the opposite side of the bath, running a hand through his already wet hair.

“Riddle! What do you think you’re doing!” Hermione shrieked as she awkwardly crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to cover herself, through she was sure he had already gotten an eyeful anyway.

He scoffed at her accusatory tone, “Having a bath, what does it look like? I might ask you the same question!” he shot back, arching an eyebrow at her expectantly.

“The door was open, haven’t you ever heard of a locking charm?!” she shouted back. The thought of moving was out of the question, considering she was currently completely naked.

“Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest, “Besides, I was here first, so _I’m_ not leaving.”

Hermione stared shamelessly at his pale chest before quickly looking down at herself in mortification. If she stood up, he would see _everything_.

“Turn around.” She ordered.

He smirked, “No.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, and she repeated his words incredulously, “ _No?_!”

“No. I’m quite comfortable where I am, thank you.” He said with a hint of amusement, clearly at her expense.

“Well, I’m not leaving unless you turn around.” She spat defiantly.

“Suit yourself.” He sighed and he let his head fall back against the wall with a contented sigh, as if he wasn’t bothered one bit about the fact that they were both naked in a bath together.

“What are you doing?!” She said in a panicked squeak.

“I told you, I’m taking a bath.”

“What? No! We can’t both be in here! It’s…it’s…” she stammered, trying to remember of all the reasons why being naked and wet with Tom Riddle was a bad idea.

“Kinky?” he chuckled.

She splashed water at him, and inhaled sharply in mock outrage at the suggestion, “ _Indecent_! This is how rumors start you know!”

He arched an eyebrow at her, “Oh? And what do you suppose the rumors would say? That I fucked you in the prefect’s bath? That I made you _come_ against the cold tiles, and on Valentine’s day, no less?”

She flushed a deep shade of red at his words, unable to speak, as she stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Cat got your tongue, Hermione?” he chuckled knowingly.

“All boys think about is sex!” She finally managed to say as she pressed her thighs together beneath the water, hoping he wouldn’t be able to see the effect he was having on her.

He chuckled darkly then, and it flowed over her like warm honey.

“ _So long as men can breathe or eyes can see_.” He said slowly watching her closely for her reaction.

Her eyes widened in recognition. _Sonnet 18…_

“It was _you_ …” she whispered, shocked that it could possibly be him.

“Yes.” He answered simply, moving toward her slowly through the scented water.

“But it was a joke…right?” She said uncertainly, looking up at him in shock as he brushed his knuckles over her cheek, too stunned to say anything more.

His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, and his head dipped lower towards hers, “Not to me”.

She moaned into his mouth when his lips crashed into hers, and her hands threaded into his wet hair. She had imagined running her hands through it so many times, and despite the alarm bells going off in her head, she kissed him back.

“I’m not going to pine for you”, she breathed as his lips broke away from hers to leave a trail of hot open mouthed kisses along her throat.

“I know. That’s what makes you so irresistible to me.” He muttered between kisses as he pulled her closer.

“What do you want from me, Tom?” she whispered, pulling his face back up to hers so that she could meet his eyes.

“I want to watch you come apart in my arms. I want it to be _my_ name on your lips when you get yourself off at night…”

She bit down on her bottom lip in pleasure when he rocked his hips forward into hers, and she felt his arousal against her thigh.

“Tell me you want this too…” he whispered, his voice thick with need.

Too turned on to speak, she nodded quickly, and before she knew what was happening, he lifted her slightly so that she was pressed between him and the side of the bath, with her legs coming up to wrap around his waist.

She inhaled sharply when she felt his cock move against her clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her whole body, and she pressed her heels into his backside to bring him closer.

“More…” she moaned, clutching his shoulders so tightly, she was sure she would leave marks.

“As my lady commands” he breathed, capturing her lip between his teeth and giving it a nip.

He angled his hips just enough to slide into her welcoming heat, as she cried out, shuddering against him.

“You feel so perfect like you were made for me, _fuck…_ ” he groaned as he slammed into her, marveling at how she met him thrust for thrust. His hand moved down to rub her clit as he fucked her hard, knowing that it wouldn’t take long for her to come like this. At this angle, he was deep inside of her, and he was sure she could feel every inch of him as he thrust into her over and over again.

“Come for me, Hermione…” he whispered against her jaw as he felt her start to tense.

“Gods, Don’t stop!” she managed to gasp before her eyes slipped shut and she cried out his name as she fell into oblivion.

When she came back to herself, he was panting heavily as he pressed his forehead against hers with a satisfied smile on his face.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked as he leaned down to brush his lips against hers.

“I’m thinking Valentine’s Day isn’t so terrible after all.” Hermione laughed, pulling him down into another kiss.


End file.
